


The Consequences of Waking

by antigrav_vector



Series: Like trying to stop an avalanche [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assumptions, Clint Barton/Virginia "Pepper" Potts/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark - Freeform, Cockrings, Comic Book Science, Cuddles, Dirty Talk, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Extremis, F/F, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Natasha Romanov/Clint Barton - Freeform, Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark - Freeform, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Steve Rogers/ Margaret "Peggy" Carter, Pet Names, Poly Relationships, Power Dynamics, Relationship Negotiation, Spitroast, Steve Rogers/Clint Barton - Freeform, Steve Rogers/Clint Barton/Virginia "Pepper" Potts/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov - Freeform, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Virginia "Pepper" Potts - Freeform, Steve Rogers/Virginia "Pepper" Potts - Freeform, Strap-Ons, Switching, Threesome, Tony Stark/Clint Barton - Freeform, Virginia "Pepper" Potts/Clint Barton - Freeform, Virginia "Pepper" Potts/Natasha Romanov, Virginia "Pepper" Potts/Tony Stark - Freeform, bottom!Steve, bottom!tony, far more plot than intended, hurt!Tony, mild Tony!whump, tons of background or implied pairings, top!steve, top!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6033070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discoveries and recoveries are made, but the undercurrents might drown them all unless Pepper and Natasha step in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to my beta [lil_1337](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337).

"Holy shit," Tony stared. That was a cryo chamber. And an active one, at that.

What the _fuck_ was it doing here? And who was in it?

And, perhaps most importantly, could they remove it from the room?

Extremis was picking up another camera in the room. Tony blasted it without hesitation, then stepped into the room. It was like stepping into nothing, as far as Extremis was concerned, and Tony identified the sensation as a Faraday Cage[1]. All he could sense with Extremis was the cryo chamber itself, and even then, it pinged as just another piece of non-wireless enabled tech.

There were several panels on its sides that looked like control and instrument panels, and Tony avoided those for the moment. He wanted to ask JARVIS to cross-reference the feed from his helmet with known tech and try to get an idea how old this chamber was. It looked ancient. Possibly from the late 70s or early 80s.

And confirmation of that piece of information alone would be mind blowing. As far as he knew, the technology to put people into cryogenic freeze didn't exist yet. So the mere existence of this hulking piece of equipment was a statistical improbability. And yet.

He stepped back out of the room, and nearly ran into a concerned-looking Steve. Patting said concerned Steve on the chest but not moving, he said, "Cool your jets, Cap. We may have to find a way to do an evac."

"Evac?" Steve looked stunned. "What are you talking about?"

"J," Tony took up contact with his AI, feeling JARVIS' presence as onboard computing reconnected with the servers beneath Stark Tower, "do me a favour and start running a visual analysis on the tech in the last thirty seconds of recordings from the suit cameras. We're about to get hands on with it."

Steve shouldered him aside as he talked, clearly very curious, and stepped into the room. A moment later, Tony heard the shield fall to the floor. "Bucky?"

Steve's voice was faint, and that alone was enough to convince Tony he needed to be back in the room, pronto. He was just in time to throw an arm around Steve as his friend's knees gave out. "You okay, Cap," he asked, very concerned. He'd never seen Steve react like that before.

Natasha followed them into the room and stopped short, staring. "Bozhe moi," she breathed. Cuing her team comm, she called, "Hawkeye, how do things look topside?"

"Still clear, but I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this. You might want to get a move on," he replied.

"Copy that," she acknowledged the advice, and stepped around to stand in front of Steve. "Cap," she said, putting a finger under his chin and forcing him to meet her eyes, "focus. We need to get him out of here, and if you're not concentrating, we might accidentally get him killed. This takes precedence over whatever's on those servers, but we'll have to plan to come back for the information."

The comment got a dazed nod out of Steve, who stayed eerily silent. That was really starting to make Tony worry, and he didn't like it. Natasha picked that moment to take charge. "Iron Man, get that thing disconnected and prepped for transport. Cap, you're with me. We'll need a big enough door to get that out, and the hole we cut to get to the stairs won't do it."

Alright, he could accept that. Natasha would keep Steve centered until they could get back to the Tower, and he could handle this. He just needed a portable power source of some kind to make sure the compressors mounted to the back of the thing stayed running.

Another survey of the room turned up nothing, and Tony was faced with a choice: splice the thing into the reactor powering his armour, or hope they had something on the quinjet that he could scavenge.

With a wince for Pepper's probable reaction when she found out, Tony opted to use his reactor. It wasn't powering him anymore, and they needed to move fast. He trusted Hawkeye's instincts on this kind of crap.

Luckily, the armour had enough auxiliary power to run for about twenty minutes, without the reactor.

\------

It took almost ten minutes, every second begrudged, for Tony to scavenge the parts and tools he needed, and also work out where and how he needed to splice in the reactor to power the thing. Once he had, he cued the team comms, "guys? How we doin' on that egress route?"

"Ready when you are," Natasha responded. "I'm sending Cap your way to help with the heavy lifting."

"Right," Tony stood from his position behind the cryo chamber and sized up the door of the room. He might need to take out a few inches on one side for the cryo chamber to fit through it.

Before he could set to work on that, though, Steve walked into the room, looking much calmer. And mighty resolute. "Iron Man," he greeted Tony. "What do you need?"

"Right now," Tony replied, "another pair of hands to help me shift this thing. I'm on auxiliary power, so I won't be able to use the armour for long."

That got Steve's attention, and he took another look at Tony, his eyes lingering on the absence of the arc reactor. "How much time do you have?"

"About twenty minutes," Tony answered. "A little more if I'm not pushing everything to the limits."

Steve nodded, and stepped back out of the room. When he returned, he was pulling along a pallet jack[2].

Tony grinned. "Perfect. Bring that over here; we'd better get the hell out of this place."

Between them, it didn't take long to wrestle the bulky cryo chamber out of the room, and into the main hallway of the bunker. Once they had, Tony could see that the team's solution had been to make the trap door at the top of the stairs wider, and find some long planks from god only knew where to act as ramps for the pallet jack.

"You guys almost done in there," Clint wanted to know. "I'm starting to see movement outside the base."

Steve turned to Tony and asked, "ready?"

Tony nodded. "Let's go. Getting ambushed while we're trying to deal with this thing isn't on my list of things to do today."

Getting the chamber up the stairs was more difficult, but they managed without any major mishaps.

On the other hand, getting the unwieldy thing out through the trapdoor was a pain; Steve had to help him boost the thing vertically up, and Natasha had to help them guide it onto the floor of the munitions bunker with several loud grinding noises. Tony hoped like hell they hadn't damaged anything delicate. There had been some unprotected wiring and what looked like coolant lines on the thing's underbelly.

"Come on, Iron Man," Steve got his attention, "I'll give you a boost up."

Might as well save the power he had for any firefights, Tony decided, and nodded. "Right. Hawkeye, you on your way to get the 'jet?"

"On my way back with it," came the reply, "but watch out. There are three groups of about ten converging on you from different directions. Cap, if you want me to hold fire, now's the time to say so."

"Hold fire, Hawkeye," Cap answered. "I could use a chance to stretch my legs. Iron Man, stay here and keep an eye on Bucky. Widow," he smirked, "care for a dance?"

Natasha returned the expression and offered him her elbow as though they were actually at a gala. "Always, Cap."

It wasn't long before Tony could hear the sounds of Steve and Natasha cutting a swath through the goons that were attempting to swarm them. The bell-like tones of the shield bouncing off things were unmistakable.

"Iron Man," Natasha called out, "We've got two of the squads tied up, but the third is coming your way."

Shit. "Hawkeye, where are you?"

"Holding position above the base, and avoiding taking fire," Clint told him. "Cap and Widow have things under control, but they'll need a few minutes to mop up. And you're about to have company."

Tony decided to use the bunker door as a convenient choke point. They could only come through there two at a time, and that would make it easier for him to deal with them. If he tried to take them head-on, he'd have to deal with all of them at once. Powering up his repulsors, he grinned, feeling the familiar adrenaline rush of a fight start to rush through him. "J," he requested, "give me an approximate counter on remaining shots and power levels."

"Of course, sir," the AI replied in his smooth, lightly accented tones, and counters appeared on the HUD; 25 shots, and the equivalent of 5% power. "Would you like to take advantage of the knock-out darts?"

"Let's save those for an emergency, J. They don't take a lot of power to--" The first pair of goons rushed him, before he finished the sentence, and he broke off what he was saying long enough to repulsor them in the stomach and knee, respectively. "-- launch!"

The second pair followed immediately after the first, but these were a little smarter. They ducked through the door and rolled, one left and one right. They came up with their weapons at the ready, but it didn't help them. They both got to one knee before Tony could take them out, and the next two pairs were right on their heels. Faced with four opponents, and with twenty one shots left, Tony smirked. These odds were distinctly in his favour, but they might still manage to overwhelm him if he wasn't careful.

"Cap," he spoke into the team comm line, "any chance you're done with your bit of exercise?"

He shot the first two and knocked them out with shots to their bulky helmets. The second pair managed to squeeze off a few rounds each, but the small calibre bullets they were using weren't nearly enough to do more than scratch the paint on his suit. Hell, Tony didn't think they'd even do that much damage to his armour.

"Just about, Iron Man," Cap replied.

The bullets, five from each man, hit his torso, and ricocheted wildly, some embedding themselves in concrete. Others disappearing into the room somewhere. Possibly into the bodies on the floor, but Tony couldn't worry about that right now. He shot the two remaining gunmen of the four.

"I'm headed your way now," Natasha put in. "ETA one minute."

Meantime, more goons had rushed the door. There were six of them now, in varying firing positions. They hesitated, though, having seen how little damage bullets did to his armour. JARVIS lit them up with crosshairs, and Tony grinned. "Best game of Whack-A-Mole ever."

That comment made one of the goons growl, and pull his trigger. Four of the five bullets in the burst of fire ricocheted, but the last one... Tony choked. Shit.

"J, knock-out rounds," he ordered, and watched the six goons fall over one by one.

He lost a bit of time after that. When he tuned back in, Natasha was kneeling over him, and Steve was nowhere to be seen.

"'Tasha?" It came out as a mumble, and started a coughing fit.

"Don't try to talk right now," she admonished him, and he could hear the tension in her voice. "You caught a bullet at just the wrong angle."

Well, that explained why he was on his back. "Tower," he asked.

Steve stepped into his field of view and nodded. "He's right, Widow. We need to get him out of here. And we need to get Bucky onto the jet, too."

"No one else showing up for miles," Clint put in. "I say we load up the jet and bug out."

"JARVIS," Natasha addressed the AI, "can you lock the joints of the armour and keep an eye on his vitals?"

The suit stiffened around him, and Tony winced as it reminded him of his injury. 

"Armour joints locked," JARVIS announced. "Sir's vitals are stable, though far off baseline. It would be preferable if you could transport him to the Tower for suitable medical attention before his healing factor makes his blood sugar levels drop to unsafe levels."

Right. That. Tony wanted to groan, but forced himself to bite it back.

Instead he whined at JARVIS silently, sending him the equivalent of a text message. _ugh j did they at least take the bullet out?_

"They did, sir," JARVIS replied, on helmet speakers only. "Ms. Romanov found it upsetting but refused to let Captain Rogers do it."

 _well she does have smaller hands_ Tony replied, and forced himself to relax. He wasn't quite sure what was causing his anxiety levels to skyrocket, but it was doing him no favours and he knew it.

The sight of Natasha's hands, smeared with what he knew was his blood, wasn't been a pleasant one, and it sent his heartrate back up again. Tony swallowed against the way his throat felt tight and tried not to think about that. Closing his eyes helped a little, as Steve carefully picked him up in what would have been a princess carry, had the armour not been stiff as a board.

 _tell steve there better not be any pictures of this or i'm erasing his entire meme collection,_ Tony ordered.

He could tell JARVIS had humoured him and passed on the message when Steve snorted. "Do that, and you'll have to wait even longer before we get to know one another properly," he shot back. "You're already on thin ice, after this little stunt."

It hadn't been his fault. Tony pouted. He needed to find a way to interface with the team comms with Extremis, he decided. 

Before he could come up with a suitable rejoinder, Steve was finished putting him down on the single quinjet bunk and strapping him in, and had disappeared back into the bunker. Clint hadn't moved from the controls, and was keeping the quinjet carefully balanced between idling and takeoff engine RPMs; Tony could tell just from the sound alone.

It took Steve and Natasha a little longer to show up with the cryo chamber, now back on the pallet jack, and load it up.

"Okay," Steve called, "we're secure. Stark Tower, on the double."

By the time they'd finished securing it and given Clint the go-ahead to take-off, Tony was starting to feel a bit light-headed and shaky. Hypoglycemia wasn't far off, and he knew it.

_got the supplies ready, j?_

"I do, sir," JARVIS replied, tone softer than usual, and slightly worried.

"Captain," the AI spoke over the comms rather than try to shout over the roar of the quinjet's engines as Clint redlined it back to New York, "there is no immediate danger at this point in time, but it is possible that sir will lose consciousness if Extremis continues to deplete his blood sugar reserves at its current pace."

"Do we have anything on board that would be useful," Steve asked Natasha. "You know the first aid kit inside and out."

She pursed her lips. Tony could see it on his HUD. "There are some glucose tablets, but with Tony locked into position like that, he wouldn't be able to swallow them easily."

"So stand him up. I can hold him, if need be," Steve suggested.

Ugh, so undignified. _we need to put that on the list of emergency injectables j,_ Tony told the AI. He had some small reservoirs of painkillers and other useful drugs built into the armour already. And actually, he really should have thought to do this sooner.

"Yes, sir," JARVIS agreed, "I'll put it on the list. Top priority."

 _no,_ Tony disagreed. _that cryo chamber is top priority._

He could tell JARVIS disagreed strongly, and knew that he would probably get a lecture about his lack of self-preservation instincts later.

"Fine," Natasha was saying, "but try to avoid sudden movements. Tony, can you open the faceplate?"

"Do it, J," he mumbled, careful to keep his breathing as even as he could manage. He was still feeling anxious, and his skin felt oddly tight and warm. The warmth was centered around his injury, which made sense when it occurred to him, what with the wound-healing responses and immune reactions that Extremis was ramping into overdrive. He could almost feel JARVIS hesitate, but a moment later the faceplate flipped up and retracted into its 'open' position, covering his forehead and extending up over his head.

Natasha caught and held his eyes once she could see his face, and somewhat to his surprise it steadied him. "Think you can deal with standing," she prompted him.

"Probably." He wasn't sure what to do with the way her protectiveness was making him feel. It was making something in his chest go tight and warm, and somehow it was a kind of warmth that felt the polar opposite of the way the heat generated by his injury was making him vaguely nauseous.

Steve leaned in to carefully undo the buckles strapping the armour into the bunk, before hauling him out as though he weighed about as much as his tablet. And then he was upright, albeit propped up against Steve's broad chest and with those ridiculously well-muscled arms around his armoured waist.

Tony carefully didn't think about how hot that was; those were not the best thoughts to entertain while he was in the suit. And even less so when he was injured. Thankfully, before his thoughts could get even more tangled up in themselves, Natasha commanded his attention again.

"Tony, focus," she said, her expression serious. "Until we can get you to the Tower and deal with this properly, you need to take as many of these as you can stand."

He would have nodded, but the suit held him still. Instead he hummed a vague affirmative.

"We have some water," she added as she touched the first glucose tablet to his lips, "and you can have some in between, if you need it."

Accepting anything resembling food directly from someone else like that took him a moment, his reflexive impulse toward rejection still strongly in evidence. Trust wasn't the issue, and she knew it. It was just... it had saved him before, and that only reinforced the habit.

But Natasha was patient, and knew about this particular reaction of his. She held the tablet where it was until he accepted it, and then reached for the next as it started dissolving on his tongue in an explosion of dry powdery sweetness.

Weirdly, the moment it started hitting his bloodstream, it made him feel shakier. Trying to fix the problem made him more aware of it, and he was very glad of the support of the armour, and of Steve holding him steady. He was pretty sure that without those, he'd have collapsed onto the floor of the quinjet.

"Coming up on city limits," Clint announced. "ETA ten minutes."

Natasha looked relieved for a moment, before the expression melted back into a mix of concern and determination and she held another tablet against his lips. "One more and then you can have a sip of water if you need one."

Tony made a face, knowing that he wasn't going to get away with dodging medical and irritated with the delay that would cause before he could settle in to work on deciphering the cryo chamber's controls.

 _j, make sure that they put that cryo chamber in the workshop and secure it properly, then see what your scans can turn up. maybe hold off on the xray analysis for now,_ he requested.

"Very well, sir."

\------

Pepper had been waiting for them just inside the doors when Clint had put the jet down on the helipad, and Natasha had immediately veered off to update her. Tony had seen that much as Steve 'helped' him down the ramp at the rear of the jet.

Tony would have been able to walk himself out of the jet under his own power and JARVIS would have let him, but Steve apparently disagreed.

Their team leader had all but hauled Tony into the elevator and 'escorted' him to the floor of the Tower that housed the infirmary and private medical response team he kept on retainer. Annoyingly, the staff had believed Steve over him, and so they'd helped Steve bully him out of the armour and into a rather uncomfortable chair. The head nurse, long familiar with him and his tactics, had threatened to restrain him if he didn't stay put long enough for them to get him stabilised again. Steve had backed her up.

The treatment, such as it was, had entailed nothing more serious than an injection of glucagon and an IV of the isotonic equivalent of the glucose tablets Natasha had been giving him on the flight back to bolster its effects. Tony made a mental note to replace the horrible chairs with better ones at some point.

Once they'd gotten him seated, the nurses let Steve try to stare him into submission while they checked on the actual injury itself. The already partially healed wound was summarily cleaned and dressed. And then, once they were finally convinced he wasn't going to pass out due to low blood sugar, some two hours after their arrival at the Tower, he was free to hole up in his workshop.

So he did, even if he had to do it with bandages wrapped around his upper torso to help keep the wound clean and strict instructions to come back in six hours to let them check it over.

He intended to ignore that last instruction. He'd be fine without all the mother henning.

 _got anything for me j,_ he'd asked as he opened the workshop door.

"Not as such, sir," the AI replied, rather pointedly choosing to speak aloud as he usually did.

The negative surprised Tony. "What? Why not?" 

"The electronics used in this recovered equipment appear to be completely custom made and do not match any known off-the-shelf parts from the era in which I estimate it was built."

"And," Tony prompted, sure there was more.

"And," JARVIS went on, "without a more precise analysis it will be substantially more difficult to determine how to reverse the cryogenic preservation that has been done. It would be possible to do so without the knowledge of the nature of the parts used and their purpose, but I would strongly advise against that without at least making the attempt to recover the data on the base's servers."

That matched up with his own analysis of the situation. Tony nodded. "Noted. Did you tell Steve?"

"The Captain and Ms. Romanov are up-to-date on my findings," came the expected reply.

"Good. Are they planning another infiltration?"

"I believe they currently plan to make the attempt tomorrow morning just after dawn."

That left him the choice of staying in the Tower and trying to analyse the cryo chamber, or getting his backup reactor out of storage and doing a quick maintenance job on the armour so he could go with them. Natasha didn't have quite the same fine touch he did for getting into and sifting through servers, but she was still damn good, and he knew he could count on her to get the job done. But on the other hand, being there himself meant he could back them up with the armour, if needed, and also use his talents to get the information he would need if they were going to get that guy back out of the cryo chamber. Not to mention that if there was any kind of wireless uplink, he could take advantage of having Extremis. Over the six weeks he'd had it, he'd come to learn that Extremis meant that he could code about as fast as he could think, and his latency was really only limited by the packet transfer rate.

Or, he decided, straightening his spine, he could do both.

"JARVIS, give me the schematics for the armour," he requested, "we're putting in that emergency booster pack we talked about earlier for the next iteration. On the current suit, we can just swap out one of the med reservoirs we don't need often."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS answered, and the holographic design interface flared to life with the blue lines of the armour schematics pre-loaded and ready. "I feel I should inform you, however, that you are expected in the communal kitchen for dinner in approximately one and a half hours."

"Yeah, sure," Tony agreed absently, already planning the alterations his armour would need.

\------

"JARVIS," Natasha's voice rang out behind him, and Tony startled, "save and exit, please."

Tony turned to scowl at her. "I wasn't finished with that."

"You can do that later," Natasha replied, her tone businesslike and firm. "Now, you are coming upstairs with me, to eat and then get checked out."

With a groan, Tony gave in. He knew he wouldn't be able to dissuade her, when she was in this kind of mood. He'd tried variously in the past with no success. "I'm _fine_ ," he whined.

That got him a scathing look as she chivvied him out the workshop door and into the elevator. "I had to pry a bullet out of your chestwall with my bare hands that I'm almost completely certain caused a pneumothorax, and then make sure you didn't have a seizure or pass out due to hypoglycemia."

Oops. Tony hid a wince. "And look how it turned out," he riposted, "I'm back to normal, and building preventative measures into the suit."

"That doesn't excuse you from dinner, or the appointment with medical that you ignored," she said, her timing perfect as usual. The moment she finished speaking, the elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open with a soft ping.

Everyone else was already in the room, clearly waiting for the two of them. Pepper and Steve immediately looked up, their expressions smoothing out when they saw him. Tony wanted to roll his eyes. Why were they all making such a fuss about this?

Natasha steered him over to the sofa and more or less pushed him into the seat beside Pepper, who promptly wrapped herself around him.

"Don't even start," she told him, and Tony could feel the fine tremors going through her. "Just... let's eat and we can have the argument afterwards."

Clint snorted, amused. "I like that plan. Take him to bed when you're done chewing him out. He should sleep."

Tony tried to catch Clint's eyes and glare at him, but failed miserably. A box of takeout was dumped in his lap and he had to grab for it to keep it from tipping over and spilling. When he looked up, Steve was smirking unrepentantly at him. "Leave Clint alone and eat your dinner."

\------  
[1] So. A [Faraday Cage](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faraday_cage) is a thing used to block electromagnetic signals. Cellphone, microwave, whatever. It's quite useful for certain kinds of electronics research. Click here to return to text. 

[2] An image of a [manual pallet jack](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Pompwagen.jpg). Just to make sure we're all imagining the same thing. Click here to return to text.


	2. Chapter 2

Somewhat to his surprise, Pepper and Natasha didn't actually lecture him until long after they were finished eating and had crossed the threshold of Tony's bedroom. Pepper stopped roughly in the middle of the open floorspace between the bed and the door and caught his eyes. Natasha followed them in and closed the door behind them, hitting the button to request privacy.

"Tony," Pepper opened the discussion, "I know you think we're all over-reacting, but I want you to step back and think, just for a minute, about how you would feel if Natasha had been the one to get hit."

If-- Oh.

That... yeah. Tony swallowed against the way his throat tried to close at the thought. He didn't even want to think about that. If it ever happened, he would probably freak the fuck out. And there would probably be a lot of explosions. He was pretty sure Steve would back him up every inch of the way, too.

It never ceased to amaze him how Pepper always knew what to say to put things into perspective when he lost his. "Sorry," he managed, pulling her close so he could turn his head and tuck his nose into the hollow behind her ear.

"Just don't do it again," Pepper replied.

"He's working on it," Natasha put in when Tony didn't speak for a long moment, choosing to close his eyes and wrap his arms around Pepper's waist instead. "Building some safety reserves into the armour's internal med kit."

"Good." Pepper nodded, her movements just shallow enough not to dislodge him.

Natasha caught her eyes and Tony could almost feel the intensity even without being able to see her. "Think we should reward him," she asked.

Tony drew back just enough that he could watch the two of them, debating whether he should try to distract them. This sounded like it was building up to something very interesting.

"For not dying?" Pepper snarked, raising an eyebrow.

"For trying to prevent a repeat occurrence," Natasha corrected gently.

"Hmm," Pepper's hand wound into his hair and cupped the back of his skull, pulling him up to meet her eyes and then in for a long leisurely kiss. "I suppose you have a point," she replied. "What did you have in mind?"

"Steve and Clint are off having their fun," Natasha said, anticipation coloring her tone slightly, "there's nothing stopping us from having our own and double teaming Tony."

This discussion was starting to turn Tony on, and he knew Pepper had noticed. She was also watching him ever more carefully, the longer he stayed silent. After a moment, she spoke, "In general, that sounds like a fun plan, but do we get details?"

Natasha smirked, the expression giving her a dangerous edge that Tony had learned to love. It usually meant something fun was in the offing. "I thought we could lay him out on the bed, spread eagle, tie down his hands, and _wreck_ him. Bring him to the edge over and over until he's sobbing for relief, and then pull as many successive orgasms out of him as we can."

Tony bit his lip, hard, to hold back the whine building in his throat. That sounded amazing.

"Or," Natasha continued after a beat, "the other variant would be to lay him out, put a cockring on him," Natasha gave Pepper a knowing look when she swallowed, starting to get turned on too, and went on, "and just use him to get ourselves off, over and over, until he couldn't take it anymore."

"Yes," Tony managed to get out. He heard the hoarseness in his voice, hell, he _felt_ it. "Fuck, yes. Either. Both."

Now, Pepper smiled. She gently pulled away, and said, "you know what to do."

He did. It had been a long time since they'd done anything remotely like this, but he still remembered exactly how they wanted him. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he stood slowly, moving to stand by the side of the bed. He paused just briefly, trying to find his equilibrium again, with the way his emotions had been ricocheting all over the spectrum in the last few minutes, then started slowly stripping down.

Tony took his time, lingering over the buttons of his shirt before he let it slide off his shoulders, and toying with the waistband of his pants until Natasha made a soft sound at the back of her throat. When he stripped those off, he let them fall to pool around his ankles then bent at the waist to pick them up, showing off for his lovers in the way that he knew they both enjoyed.

When he straightened up again, Natasha had the special ties in her hands that they used when they wanted to do this kind of play. Essentially just long loops of reinforced cotton he was supposed to thread his hands and forearms through, then not let go of until given permission, they satisfied both his need to be able to get out, and his lovers' desire to tie him up. They could be attached to the rings set in the headboard of the bed with carabiner clips, or whatever else his lovers felt like using, and were just long enough to let him lie flat on the bed once he had his hands properly positioned.

"Do you want to try for the edging or the cockring?" Natasha asked him, running the loops of cloth through her hands and looking almost contemplative.

Faced with the choice, he suddenly wasn't sure which he wanted more. Both sounded like fun. It took a moment's thought, but he eventually came to a decision. "Edging."

Pepper took one of the bindings from Natasha and threaded it through the ring in the headboard, using a simple cow hitch[3]. Natasha did the same on the other side of the bed.

Tony took a deep breath, feeling the shot of arousal that sent up his spine. "So if you're going to tie me down and keep me on the edge," he asked as he stepped up behind Pepper and ran his hands up her sides from her waist to her shoulders, "who's taking care of you?"

Natasha huffed, amused. "Let us worry about that."

Pepper nodded and hummed an affirmative before turning in his arms and pushing him backwards toward the bed. Well, alright then. He shrugged and sat down. He was already hard, and Tony knew this would be an exercise in control for him, if he wanted this to last longer than it took for Pepper and Natasha to get undressed.

A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision distracted him, and a glance to his right revealed that Natasha had stripped down to her bra and nothing else. She had pulled her favourite strap-on harness out of their sex drawer and was letting it hang from her hand as she walked back over to the bed. Her footsteps were smooth, like flowing water, and Tony couldn't help but admire the way she moved. It didn't matter how many times or how often he saw her do it. It was gorgeous, and suited her quiet, deadly personality right down to the ground.

He loved it.

It helped that he was pretty sure he loved her, too, meantime, for all that it had taken them a long time to reach that level of entangled emotion.

But that wasn't the point.

Tony let himself stare openly, knowing that Natasha would take it as the compliment he meant it to be. "Who's that for," he asked her.

"I thought," Natasha murmured, "I would offer to use it on Pepper while she took you so deep into her mouth that you both forget how to breathe."

Tony couldn't seem to find words. The sentence made Pepper moan quietly. "Yes," she replied. "Please."

Natasha smirked, pleased, and demanded, "Tony, on the bed, hands in the restraints."

While he followed directions, fighting not to let the situation ramp his arousal up too quickly, Pepper watched Natasha put on the strap-on harness. He could see the slight tension in her muscles that she got when she was really turned on, and hear the light clinks of the buckles of the harness itself. 

What felt like an instant later, Pepper was leaning over him on her hands and knees, her fists planted in the blankets next to his knees. A tumble of bright strawberry blonde hair and a nude bra with a trim of turquoise lace seemed to frame her face, and it was damn sexy.

"Pepper," Tony could hear the breathless tone in his voice, and it was turning him on more, somehow. "God, Pepper."

"Not yet," Natasha cautioned from behind Pepper, and her voice made Tony look up a little farther. Past the turquoise lace that had grabbed his attention so effectively, to where Natasha was kneeling on the bed with her fingers buried deep in Pepper. "Let me get inside you first, lisichka[4]."

A beat later, Pepper jerked and gasped for breath in response to something Natasha did, and Tony felt a tug in the pit of his stomach. "This isn't helping your cause," he snarked, "if you're trying to keep me from coming."

Pepper laughed, wrapping her fingers tightly around the base of his cock and pulling him forcibly back from the edge he was approaching. "Do we have to get a ring on you after all?"

Tony considered that. It had been said teasingly, but he knew they would follow through.

"Tony?" Natasha prompted him for an answer, and he realised she'd paused in her movements, ready to disengage and go find one. 

It wasn't as satisfying to do this kind of thing with a ring -- it took a lot of the self-control needed out of the equation -- but he really wasn't sure he could handle finding that level of focus right now. Somehow the two of them were managing to send him reeling tonight. "Have to," he replied, "no. But it would make this easier."

Without a word, Natasha stood, stepped back over to reach into their toy box, and came back holding a plain stainless steel cockring. She handed it to Pepper and leaned over to plaster herself against Pepper's back. "Put it on him, and then I'm putting the strap-on in you."

Tony felt his eyes slip closed and he took a breath, mentally preparing himself. The feeling of the cold metal ring against his flushed skin made him moan wantonly. It felt fantastic, the chill of the ring sending goosebumps up his arms, but it was nowhere near enough. Pepper's hands lingered, once she'd settled it at the root of his cock, and just... played. Her slender fingers pinched lightly at the head, sending a sharp jolt through his body and making his hips thrust up involuntarily, before trailing lightly down to tug at his balls and roll them in her palm. It made his breath go ragged until it caught in his throat, and his heart pound hard enough that he could feel it against his ribs. "Fuck, Pepper!"

She stopped moving for a few seconds that seemed to stretch, and Tony forced his eyes back open in time to see Natasha push in, her left arm hooked under Pepper's and her hand wrapped around Pepper's shoulder at the point of her collarbone for leverage. Her other arm was wrapped somewhat possessively around Pepper's waist. 

It was only once Natasha was seated and Pepper had adjusted to the penetration that either of them continued. Pepper shifted her hands to rest on his hips, pinning him lightly to the bed, before she opened her mouth and leaned down to let her breaths feather over the tip of his cock, holding the position until he was tempted to try to thrust up in a bid for more.

"Pepper," Tony tried, forcing himself not to move, "Pep, please."

Natasha didn't let Pepper reply, pulling back just enough to thrust the strap-on home. Pepper's hips jerked, and she made a high pitched sound that almost qualified as a squeak. It was the way her eyes squeezed shut, and her jaw dropped that made the sight incredibly hot. He _knew_ those reactions. Knew that Natasha had just thrust deep and ground herself against the sensitive spot Pepper went wild for.

The knowledge made the scene all the more intimate and arousing, really. And it made his hands clench tighter around the fabric ties and his cock twitch, where it stood proudly. He was kind of glad he'd agreed to the ring. Without it he'd probably have come untouched by now.

Pepper saw his reaction and laughed, the sound slightly breathless, before she replied. "Please what, Tony?"

Natasha pulled slowly back, the entire motion a tease, then thrust suddenly back in. It pulled a long moan out of Pepper's throat. "He wants you to take him in, and tease him to within an inch of his life," she said, arousal making her own voice rough. "I want you to take the head of his cock in your mouth and use your tongue to drive him wild."

Without another word, Pepper obeyed.

"Fuck!" His cockhead was suddenly enveloped in slick heat and Tony couldn't help the way his hips thrust up without his input.

He lost track of time after that, watching Natasha work Pepper through two orgasms with the strap-on and then use her tongue for the third. Throughout, Pepper carefully did her level best to follow Natasha's instructions. Alternately taking him deep into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat and only taking the head of his cock, Pepper kept pushing him right to the edge of what he thought he could stand, then backing off just enough to let him catch his breath before doing it all over again. She'd pulled off entirely the first time Natasha had made her come, and it had almost been enough to push him over the edge alongside her. He'd thought he had, but a glance down showed no evidence of it. He was still hard, and there wasn't even a lot of precome...

Huh. He'd never come dry before, but maybe, he thought dazedly, it had just happened.

Before he could make sense of the sensation, though, Pepper took him back in her mouth, and this time, she was using her hands too. One stayed at his hip, so she could balance if he made any more sudden movements. The other trailed down between his legs to toy with his opening, and fuck if that wasn't one of the hottest things he'd felt so far tonight. He wasn't paying any attention to what Natasha was doing anymore, only focused on Pepper's mouth and his attempts not to choke her.

Pepper pushed him to the edge another few times before she came the second time, and this time she chose to stay where she was when she came, not giving up the deepthroat she'd done. The way she moaned and made small sounds, left him panting for air and scrambling to keep the little bit of control he still had over his muscles. The sight of her, her lips wrapped around the base of his cock just above where the ring sat, along with the way her hands clenched tightly enough around his hips to leave behind matching rings of bruises on his thighs, was just ridiculously erotic.

By the time she pulled back to take a breath, Tony was fairly sure he'd come dry a second time. 

Natasha's hands wound into Pepper's hair after that, gently pulling her up and off him. She made a protesting sound deep in her chest at that, and it sent a jolt through him, his skin hypersensitive, and the rest of him tensed in response. A moment later, the cooler air of the room suddenly registered against his skin and he moaned, the contrast sending a wave of goosebumps over his arms.

"Tony," Natasha got his attention, holding his eyes to make her point, "take a deep breath and hold it for a three seconds."

It was only after he obeyed that he realised his breathing had gotten very fast and shallow. Following the instruction also had the effect of calming him down substantially. He didn't feel nearly as on-edge as he had before.

Natasha nodded, approvingly. "Good. One more."

This time he also tried to consciously relax his grip on the restraints, and realised just how tightly he was gripping them. His hands _ached_ , and not in a pleasant way.

When Natasha spoke again, he looked down the length of his body at his intertwined lovers. Natasha had carefully pulled out of Pepper, and was urging her up, back onto her hands and knees, positioning her so that she and Tony were almost nose-to-nose. "I'm going to give Pepper one more," she said, doing something he couldn't see with her right hand, and Pepper's eyes fell shut. Tony couldn't seem to look away from Pepper's face, as Natasha continued, "and then I want you to use your tongue to make me come, Tony. Your hands stay where they are."

Her demand undid a good half of what the calming breaths had done to help haul him away from the edge. "Shit, 'Tasha," he gritted out, "I-- you-- yes!"

Natasha only smirked, and lowered her head until she could reach Pepper more easily, then settled in to see what reactions she could pull out of Pepper with her fingers and mouth.

All he could do was watch.

It was almost painful, how much he wanted to pull out of the restraints and touch.

When Natasha finally lifted her head again, Pepper was taking big gulping breaths and shuddering through the aftershocks of a fourth orgasm. Tony tried to speak as Natasha leaned back and produced a small hand towel from somewhere, cleaning her face and then offering the towel to Pepper, who took it with a dazed expression, but it felt like his tongue had a knot tied in it. Once she was finished, she looked up and caught his eyes. "Now," she purred, "where were we?"

She gently shouldered Pepper aside as she crawled up the bed on all fours until she was straddling his chest then sat back, keeping most of her weight on her knees and heels. After a beat, Tony managed to answer. "I thought you wanted me to eat you out."

"And," she prompted.

"And not touch," he added. "I get it, come here."

"Hmm," Natasha trailed her fingers up the side of his neck to his ear, then through his hair. Shifting herself up even further, she positioned herself so that he could just about reach her and smirked at him. "Think you're flexible enough to do it from here?"

"Not for long," he admitted, and jumped when he felt a hand touch his cock. He'd been so focused on Natasha, he hadn't seen Pepper move. He forgot to pay attention to that a second later; obligingly, Natasha inched forward just slightly farther, until the only thing keeping her position from being a simple sit-on-my-face scenario was the way she was holding herself up, keeping a few inches of air between them.

That wouldn't do.

Tony used the leverage the restraints gave him to lift himself up until he could bury his nose in the thatch of hair Natasha kept so neatly trimmed and use his tongue to work her clit. It pulled a shout of pleasure out of her, and he took that as a sign to continue. "Tony! Oh!"

She was being careful not to thrust down, but she couldn't stop herself from grinding against his face, and that was only turning him on more.

Pushing the thought away, Tony went back to what he'd been doing. Only this time, he sealed his lips around her clit and sucked on it, rolling it against his tongue and just treating it like a candy. Above him, Natasha's back bowed and she grabbed for the headboard, in an effort to keep her balance.

Amused, he hummed, and enjoyed the way Natasha twitched against him as she tried not to thrash too hard and injure him. When she came with a gasp and a wavering moan, the way her hips thrust involuntarily smeared her juices all over his beard and jaw. Tony felt the way his cock twitched and, fuck, he was gonna go off despite the cockring at this rate.

She pulled back after a long moment, still trying to force her breathing into a more even rhythm, and laughed softly. "Damn. I think that might be the best one you've ever given me."

Tony smiled, pleased. "I try."

"Well, next you're going to get me off one more time with your cock in me."

It made him whine, wanting. "And what about me?"

"After you're covered in me at both ends," Natasha smirked darkly, "you can come."

"Fuck," Tony let himself fall back onto the bed and forced himself to take a deep breath and hold it. Natasha's hands came down on his skin near his waist, and the touch was oddly settling for all that he'd have expected it to make him jumpier.

When Natasha kissed him, Tony threw himself into it, tasting the remnants of her lipstick and Pepper. When the kiss broke, she took the opportunity to lick his face clean. Partially. She pointedly stayed away from his beard, leaving exactly those areas untouched where the smell of sex would linger longest.

"Taking possessiveness tips from Pepper," he asked her.

"No," she replied, "enjoying myself."

"Not--" his words cut off when she reached down to steady his cock and line them up, turning into a strangled moan. "Shit, Nata--" Unable to find the words he wanted, sheathed in liquid warmth as he was, he whined at her.

It got her moving, but Tony wasn't sure that was any better. It felt fantastic, and he could tell Natasha was using him to get herself off as quickly as she could manage. But it was driving him to an edge he wasn't allowed to fall over, and it made all his muscles tense and cord.

What seemed like half an eternity later, Natasha came again, her muscles clenching down around him as she trembled with the force of her orgasm a second time.

This time, when Natasha pulled away, Pepper was there immediately, one hand wrapping tightly around the base of him, keeping him from thrashing around or coming immediately, and the other working the ring back off. 

When she gently let go and pulled back, Tony was panting for breath. Natasha looked him over from head to toe, letting her eyes linger where she pleased. "You've been so good for us, Tony," she murmured, "so patient, and that deserves a reward."

"Yeah?" was all he could think clearly enough to say.

Natasha nodded. "Come for us, Tony. Just like this."

It was like her words flipped a switch somewhere, and that was it; he was coming untouched. Just like that. The world dissolved into light as he finally fell over the edge he'd been walking for however long.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he came down off the high enough to think straight.

Jesus.

Pepper as smirking at him.

"What?" he gave her a skeptical look.

"I'm pretty sure you just came twice," she answered.

Natasha was eyeing him with a vaguely jealous expression. "That really was unfairly attractive to watch."

"Sorry, darlin," Tony quipped, fighting to find the energy to lift his arms, "but I'm tapped out. Try again later."

\------  
[3] An image of a [cow hitch](http://www.geospectra.net/kite/knots/knot09.jpg). It's a very simple knot. Click here to return to text.

[4] _Lisichka_ is a Russian endearment that translates to 'little fox'. Click here to return to text.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve corralled them all into the quinjet early the next morning. "We need to get back there, ASAP, and you know it," was all he'd said when Tony had protested the very short prep time they'd had. Breakfast had been earlier than usual and hurried, and that had been oddly uncomfortable.

Tony hadn't realised until then how used he'd gotten to their leisurely -- if early -- breakfasts together until that moment.

Rhodey called him during the flight back out. Thankfully, he did it after Tony had reached full consciousness.

"Tony, what the hell," was the first thing out of his mouth.

Tony laughed. "I'm sorry, Rhodey, what was that?"

"What the hell is this I'm hearing about your team destroying a decommissioned army base?" Rhodey sounded actually pissed, and Tony paused.

"What do you mean, 'destroyed,'" he demanded, confused. "We didn't destroy anything."

Rhodey growled a curse at him. " _Destroyed._ As in _nothing left standing._ "

"Whoa, what?" Clint's startled exclamation from the cockpit interrupted him, and briefly pulled Tony's thoughts back to the mission at hand. "Okay, gimme one second, Rhodey." Tony muted the call over Rhodey's objections.

"Hawkeye?" Steve was poking his head into the cockpit, concerned. "Oh, hell."

"What's wrong, Cap?"

"Well, the base has turned into a giant sinkhole," Clint answered for him, and Tony wanted to bury his face in his palms.

"I hate to say it," Steve added, "but I don't think you'll be getting your data, Iron Man."

" _Damn_ it. Hawkeye, open the ramp. I'm gonna go check it out. Someone somewhere pulled the plug on something here, and I want to know what. I'd lay good odds that what we found here was Capital I Important. And not just because Cap thinks it's his long lost best friend."

It took a few seconds Tony begrudged, but the base wasn't going anywhere fast. Once the doors had opened enough for the suit to fit through, he took a flying leap, and was in the air.

 _j we got any telemetry on that crater?_ he asked using the connection he had to his AI through Extremis. It was faster.

"Not enough to determine whether the area is stable, sir," JARVIS replied. "I have taken the liberty of informing Agent Barton."

 _good_ Tony responded, _let's go see what we can find i guess_

"Rhodey, look. Stop yelling for a minute and listen to me," Tony unmuted the call just long enough to reply. "Yeah, the base is gone, but that _wasn't us_."

"Tony," Rhodey sounded like he was pinching the bridge of his nose, "I've got reports that have your team on that base less than a half hour before it turned into a crater."

"Wasn't us. I promise. Now, listen, I've gotta go. We'll talk later," Tony said, and ended the call.

"If he calls back, take a message for me, would you, J?"

"Col. Rhodes did seem rather irate, sir," the AI replied, sounding disapproving. "I would suggest having a good case to present on the team's behalf when he comes by."

"Alright, top priority once we're back at the Tower."

Dropping carefully to the ground near the center of the crater and keeping his boot repulsors charged in case he needed to make a quick exit, Tony started picking through the mud. There were a few visible scraps of concrete wall, roughly where he and JARVIS estimated that the remodeled fake munitions bunker had been last time, but there was no way he was going to get anywhere trying to dig them out enough to get at the servers. Those had been more than fifteen meters underground, and trying to clear away enough of the mud to get down that far would be a Sisyphean task. For every cubic foot he cleared, another three would slide down from the top of the crater to take its place.

"You see anything, Iron Man," Steve prompted him.

Reluctantly, he gave up the idea. "No," he answered, knowing he sounded pissed, "and there's no way to get down far enough to check on the servers without a digger. Assuming there's anything left of them."

Steve growled, angry, and Clint cursed under his breath.

Natasha said nothing for a long moment, then suggested, "come on back, Iron Man. There's nothing more we can do here."

That decided him on what to do about the issue of trying to revive the mystery man in the cryo chamber. Leaving him in there wasn't right, and he needed his arc reactor back at some point.

Taking off, Tony swooped past the jet. "Don't wait up; I'm heading back to the Tower. Got a couple of calls to make."

"Iron Man--" Steve tried.

"Cap," Tony cut him off, "I need to talk to Pepper before I attempt to do anything about that popsicle without the benefit of the server data we just lost. And Rhodey just called; the Army's not too happy with the giant sinkhole their property turned into."

"Right," Tony thought he heard Steve bite back a curse. "Keep us posted."

In the armour, the flight back to the Tower took less than half the time it did in the Quinjet, and just under fifteen minutes later, he was jogging out of the elevator on the executive levels of the Tower, still in his flight suit. He only barely remembered to knock before he just burst into Pepper's office, and paused a beat.

"Yes?" Pepper's voice rang out, slightly tired.

"Just me," Tony replied as he pushed open the door. "Thought you'd want to know that I'll be spending a lot of time in the workshop. I have a popsicle to revive, and no manual for how to do it." He kept the sentence vague on purpose.

Pepper gave him a very confused look until she remembered the cryo chamber. He hadn't had time to tell her about it in detail after the mission, what with the way he'd been recovering from taking that bullet, and then distracted with incredibly hot sex. He _had_ mentioned it the next chance he had. It had happened to be this morning, before Steve had dragged them out on their information retrieval that had gone so wrong. Which had meant he hadn't had a lot of time to talk to her about it _then_ , either.

Careful not to say anything too revealing, Pepper nodded. "As long as you promise me you'll let Natasha drag you out of there for meals every so often. Am I going to have to deal with SHIELD?"

"Probably. I don't plan to tell them until I have a definitive result, one way or the other, though."

"I suppose that makes sense. We'll talk more at dinner."

Taking that for the acceptance it was, Tony nodded, and left again. "Also," he tossed over his shoulder, "if Rhodey calls, don't let him harangue you into answering anything until I can talk him down a little. He's not too happy about the team's last outing."

\------

Rhodey did more than just call; he showed up at the Tower and stormed into the common level.

"Tony," he growled, "you'd better be ready to tell me what the fuck is going on, because the brass is--"

Tony, caught lounging on the sofa with Clint sprawled on top of him, dead asleep and sans hearing aids, grinned. "Hi Platypus," he said, shifting Clint gently off him onto the sofa. "Let's talk upstairs."

Rhodey glared at him, but accepted that, following Tony back into the elevator. "You've got a lot of talking to do, Tones, and this had better be good."

"Okay, look." Tony leaned against the elevator wall and stared Rhodey in the eyes. "We didn't blow that base."

Rhodey snorted.

"We didn't," Tony insisted. "Yeah, I know it's our word that we didn't blow anything up against some circumstantial evidence, but that's all I've got. I found some weird chatter in that information I grabbed off of SHIELD right before the Invasion. Some weird medical research on consciousness transfer, and stuff on memory alteration and deletion. Sketchy shit and pretty illegal by the sound of it. But the kicker was that that research was listed as being done at Camp Lehigh which, as I'm sure you know already, was decommissioned in the '70s. Now, I'm sure you also know that it hasn't been retrofitted or used for anything else since. Officially. Those experiments were dated last year."

Rhodey considered that for a moment. "Alright, let's say I believe you. How did the base get destroyed?"

"No idea." Tony shrugged. "For all I know the guys running those illegal experiments wired it with explosive and put in a self-destruct button. We weren't there when it went up. Or down, as the case might be."

"You are a goddamn trouble magnet, Tony," Rhodey groaned. "So if you weren't there, who hit the switch?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Tony replied. "We found some weird shit there, Rhodey. Shit I can't tell you about yet."

 _That_ got Rhodey's attention fully on him, rather than what to tell the brass. Tony could tell.

"Please tell me you're kidding," he said flatly. "Please tell me that I'm not gonna have to explain illegal experimentation _and other weird shit_ to my CO and possibly a tribunal."

"I'd love to be able to," Tony grumbled. "Tell you all about it once I figure out what the hell to do with it."

Rhodey snorted, walking over to the wet bar on the south side of the open space near the panoramic windows. "You'd better. And make it quick," he demanded, pouring himself a drink. "Oh, and while I'm here, you can tell me exactly why Agent Barton was napping draped all over you."

Tony grinned. "Gossiping, Col. Rhodes? I didn't take you for the type."

"Shut the fuck up, Tony, and dish," Rhodey replied, pointing at Tony with his glass. "You owe me some compensation for the grilling I'm gonna get once I'm back on base."

Laughing outright, now, Tony walked over to the bar, and poured himself a measure, too. He knew Rhodey knew better than to spill to anyone in the press or to his CO. "Well, see, it's like this," he started. "If this gets out I will hold a press conference about the most embarrassing thing I know about you." He paused, and Rhodey snorted, amused, before he nodded. Tony nodded back. "Actually, this story goes back about twenty years to a weekend in the Bahamas."

\------

Four hours after Rhodey had left, stunned almost speechless by what Tony had told him about the way the relationships between the team had evolved, JARVIS muted his music and cleared his throat. "Sir, " he said, "Ms. Romanov has asked me to inform you that dinner will be arriving in the next ten minutes, and tell you to wrap up anything delicate."

"Okay, okay. I could use a break anyway." Standing and stretching, Tony let the panel whose innards he was poking at fall closed. He took stock as he walked out of the workshop and secured the door.

He was making progress, but it was painstakingly slow because he had to manually map out all the wiring and resistor values and so on. And once he'd finished that, or at least the portions he could get at while it was running, he'd have to try to work out what it _did_.

They'd have to very carefully use JARVIS' x-ray imaging to map out as much of the rest as possible. There were a number of panels he couldn't open while the chamber was running without risking damaging it and possibly risking the occupant's health.

 _j think you can get those xrays done while we eat,_ he asked as the elevator car smoothly rose.

"I will do what I can, sir," JARVIS agreed, "but fine control of the x-ray beam is impossible with the lensing currently installed."

 _make a note then,_ Tony replied _and remind me to develop an upgrade for that_

"Once we are finished with this delicate work, perhaps," replied JARVIS. "For now, it would be better to focus our energies on that chamber."

 _at least powering it isnt going to be an issue_ Tony grumbled as the elevator doors opened.

The rest of the team and Pepper were gathered in the living room, seated around the low coffee table, which was loaded down with boxes of take-out. Natasha looked up the moment he stepped out of the elevator and smiled. "Thank you, JARVIS," she said, then turned her attention to him. "Come here and sit down, Tony."

He was suddenly aware of how hungry he was, thanks to the way the smell of food was filling the living room. 

\------

No one stopped him when he stood and headed straight back down to the workshop after they'd eaten, but Natasha went with him. 

Once they were on the elevator and far enough from what she considered prying ears, she asked, "what's the sitrep?"

Tony groaned. "There isn't much of one. I can't properly get at the electronics to map out what wires go where and which switches control what without having free access to the chamber. And that isn't happening while it's occupied."

Natasha nodded, seeing the logic. "So what will you do?"

"I don't know yet. I'm gonna try using JARVIS' x-ray analysis suite to see what's behind the panels I can't open, and hope that gives me enough information to figure out how it works."

"I have taken the liberty of doing what I can to parse the results and cross-reference with what you have manually mapped out."

"And?" Tony replied. "How's it look?"

"My analysis is not yet complete," JARVIS said, and Tony swallowed back an irritated growl. "I believe the information obtained will be sufficient to determine the functions of the switches and dials, however."

Natasha let out a relieved breath. "When do you think you'll be able to get him out of there, Tony?"

"No idea. Optimistically, in three days?" he offered. "Realistically, probably five. I'll have to check and crosscheck everything as many ways as possible before I attempt it."

The elevator doors opened. He stepped out, and Natasha followed him, apparently planning to hang around for a while. She veered off once they were past the workshop door, making coffee for both of them and handing him his, then settling on the sofa tucked near the kitchenette with hers.

Tony watched her for a few seconds, contemplating the state of things between them, before settling in to continue working on the cryo chamber puzzle. Every so often, infrequently, she did this when he got wrapped up in a project and didn't leave the workshop for anything except food and sleep.

She didn't require anything from him, so it worked out. He could focus, and she could do whatever she did. Maybe read a book. Something about being in the same room seemed to calm her.

It had only started once the three of them had gotten truly comfortable in their relationship. They'd finally more or less found their equilibrium two weeks before the Battle of New York. The first time Natasha had followed him into the workshop had been shortly after the Battle of New York, just after the subpoena, and he was sure there was a correlation.

He suspected that it had at least partially been because she'd been mourning him the moment she'd acted to close that portal with him on the far side, effectively killing him to save the world. It had been nothing short of a miracle that he'd made it back alive. Natasha had refused to say a word on the topic, even after he told her he'd accepted the fact that he wasn't going to get back in time and she'd done the right thing. He'd stopped with a mental shrug after the third try. Natasha would talk when she was ready, and pushing wouldn't help. He knew that from his own experiences.

It had taken the three of them a month to kick the worst of the nightmares, though they still cropped up every so often even now. Extremis helped mitigate them to a large degree, rather to everyone's surprise. It had taken two months before she was willing to talk about what had happened, even indirectly.

Shrugging off the thoughts, he too a slug of his coffee and turned his attention back to his project. _alright, j, what've we got_ he asked.

Without answering verbally, the AI projected the images from the x-ray scans on a holographic screen and the manual circuit maps Tony had done beside them.

"Hmmm," Tony considered briefly, then just waded in at the deep end. "Highlight the discrepancies for me, JARVIS?"

''Of course, sir."

Settling in for the next few hours was surprisingly easy, and he jumped when Natasha spoke up from behind his shoulder.

"Come on, Tony," she said, gently turning his head towards her with the knuckle of her forefinger under his chin. "Pepper's waiting."

Technically, so was their popsicle, but Tony knew that he wouldn't get pissed about waiting a little longer. Pepper might. Automatically saving his work, he shut down the interface and pulled Natasha in close on impulse, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. She smelled faintly of shampoo and more strongly of the subtle perfume she enjoyed using when she wasn't on a stealth mission. "Hey," he said, "thanks."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "For what?"

"For being there." He hadn't quite gotten to the point of openly stating his feelings for her like he could for Pepper, but he was fairly sure she understood.

A crooked smile tugged at her lips, and she turned him toward the door. "Let's go upstairs."

That night, neither Pepper nor Natasha let go of him.


	4. Chapter 4

It had taken him three days to be sure he'd worked out the correct circuitry and control scheme for the cryo chamber. He'd spent two more working out how to revive who was in there, and triple checking that. And so now, on the evening of the fifth day, everyone was watching him closely as they ate their dinners.

"Hey, Tony," Clint eventually asked, breaking through the stilted smalltalk, "when are you gonna defrost that guy we found?"

Tony took a gulp of his drink to put off answering for a moment. He could feel everyone staring at him. "Hadn't decided," he replied after a moment. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Steve looked like he couldn't decide whether to be elated or frightened. "So you've figured out the machine?"

"As much as possible without the manual, yeah." Tony made a face. "There's still a lot of uncertainty in what I've been able to work out."

Pepper picked up one of his hands and held it tightly. 

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence. Tony wasn't sure how he felt about this, himself. He was sure of his math. His math was always right.

His assumptions, however...

He forced back a wince. His assumptions might kill someone. It was one thing when that someone was him, and another thing entirely when it wasn't. On the other hand, he had to admit, his stance on testing things on himself had changed significantly in the last two years. 

Sleep was a long time in coming that night, and he suspected that the same was true for the others. 

When he showed up to breakfast the next morning, feeling bleary and tired, Steve was sitting slumped at the table. None of the others was in the room yet, so Tony made an impulsive decision. He sat next to Steve and leaned against him, lining them up from shoulder to hip, and let his head fall onto Steve's shoulder.

Steve had startled just slightly when Tony had sat next to him, but welcomed the contact. Or at least, Tony amended the thought, didn't pull away.

The two of them had yet to have their one-on-one time, despite all of Tony's wishes to the contrary. He'd heard all kinds of good things from the others, and it had him very curious. But actually getting down and dirty with Steve had kept getting put off for things like the mission that had resulted in the presence of the cryo chamber in the workshop, and the subsequent analysis.

At least Steve had no objections to touch. They'd found that out early on. He soaked up the casual touches they gave him like a sponge, then came looking for more.

There was no sound to warn him before a familiar feminine hand briefly buried itself in his hair. When it left, trailing down the nape of his neck and across his right shoulder blade, Tony forced himself to open his eyes. Sure enough, there was Natasha, standing by the coffee machine. What was odd was that she was in her uniform, complete with weaponry. She didn't normally wear that around the Tower.

It was Steve who asked, though. "Natasha?"

"Hmm?" She didn't bother with words, but just set a mug of coffee in front of Tony, who gratefully grabbed at it and took a gulp. It was hot enough to nearly burn his tongue, 

"Why are you suited up? Mission?"

Natasha paused, clearly considering her words. Working out how much to say, Tony realised with a jolt. "I want to offer him something familiar," she eventually said, leaving the implications hanging in the air between them.

Pepper walked in, then, plucking a mug out of the cupboard and making herself her own coffee. She glanced around the room. "No breakfast today?"

Steve grumbled something under his breath, and stood, propping Tony up until he could find his balance again. "I can make you something if you want."

Pepper took one look at his face, seeing the exhaustion writ large there, and huffed. "Only if you make enough for everyone. You need to eat too."

That got her a slight smile, and a shrug. "Wasn't hungry."

"I don't care. You need to stoke that metabolism of yours," Pepper retorted.

Natasha nodded, backing her up. "Unless you want to spot Barnes the advantage, should he come out of that machine kicking, I'd suggest you eat."

With a last amused-but-affectionate huff, Steve gave in. Pepper watched for a moment, expression satisfied, and then moved to sit next to Tony while Steve cooked. Natasha stayed where she was, leaning against the counter beside the coffee machine, and sipped at the contents of her mug.

"You seem very sure what reaction he's going to have to waking," he commented to Natasha.

She said nothing, choosing to keep that reply to herself.

To his credit, Steve didn't push. Tony suspected he was waiting for a better moment to ask again.

Tony, still wasn't fully convinced that the man in the chamber was Barnes, but they would find out soon enough. And, worse, given the nature of the experiments he'd read about, even if it was Barnes, he might not remember anything about who he was when Steve knew him. Or possibly even when Natasha knew him, as she had hinted.

Tony really wanted to know how that had come about, but he knew better than to ask now, when everyone was around.

That happened to be the moment Clint shuffled into the kitchen, in his pyjamas, and made a beeline for the fridge. Fishing out the orange juice, he drank deeply right from the carton, secure in the knowledge that meantime all of them had just given in and left it for him.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him, and pointed to the open seat at the breakfast bar.

After a moment, Clint put the juice back into the fridge and shuffled over to sit down. It was only then that Tony noticed he didn't have his hearing aids in.

Pepper distracted him before he could say anything about it. "Tony," she asked, "if you do manage to thaw this guy and wake him up, what do you plan to do with him?" Steve drew himself up, offended on his presumed friend's behalf, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

Tony hadn't considered that in as much detail as the process of waking him. "We could put him on Steve's floor. Or Natasha's."

"And long-term?" Pepper pursued the point.

"Let's get him back on his feet, first. Literal and metaphorical," Tony answered. "Long-term? That's for him to decide, once he's recovered a little and capable of making an informed decision. I'd say he should stay around here, if he truly is who Steve and Natasha think he is."

Pepper nodded. "That seems fair."

"Eat, then," Steve interjected, setting plates of food and silverware in front of them.

Natasha set down plates for herself and Clint. That only left Steve standing.

"Come join us," Pepper told him, her tone firm.

\------

After they'd eaten, Tony made his way down to the workshop, accompanied by Steve and Natasha. Pepper had slipped on her customary stilettos and gone down to the corporate levels, and Clint was currently on call for a potential mission with SHIELD.

The three of them were silent the whole trip down, and up to the workshop doors.

"Take a seat," Tony told them. "It'll be boring for the first forty minutes or so. I'll let you know if I need another set of hands for anything."

Steve nodded, tension settling in his shoulders and arms. It made Tony want to pin him to the sofa in the corner and pull all that tension right back out until he was boneless and satisfied. But that wasn't an option right now.

Natasha stepped up to stand in front of him, distracting him from those thoughts by catching his eyes, and wrapped a strong hand around the nape of his neck. "Tony," she said, driving her point home with eye contact, "whatever happens, if something goes wrong, it is _not_ your fault. You are doing everything you can to make sure this goes off without a hitch, and you're doing it with no intel whatsoever."

Tony flinched, caught off guard by the keen insight she had and the bald way she laid his psyche bare like that. "But--"

"No, Tony." This time, Steve spoke up. "She's right. And," he admitted, the slow measured way he spoke lending weight to the words, "I needed to hear that, too. I've been so caught up in just wanting Bucky back, that I lost sight of just what it would take to actually get him back and how risky it is."

Finding himself clenching his jaw, Tony forced himself to relax. Natasha's hand trailed up until she could reach the hinge of his jaw from behind, and her fingers kneaded at the muscle there. It worked far better to relax him than the controlled breathing he'd started doing, out of habit. "That's it," she murmured. "Set aside all of that pressure you've been putting on yourself. Focus on what you're doing, instead."

Taking a deep breath, Tony nodded. He pulled her in for a quick chaste kiss. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Natasha smiled, the expression fleeting. "Now get your preliminary checks started."

With a mock salute, he turned away and set to work, ignoring Steve's expression of anticipation and Natasha's fond amusement.

He resurfaced from the checklist he'd put together last night a little more than half an hour later. _howre we lookin j_ , he asked.

"I believe we are ready to begin, sir," JARVIS replied aloud. "I would suggest, however, that before you initiate the thawing procedure someone ought to procure some clothing for whomever it is that is inside that chamber."

Natasha huffed, amused. "I'll go. Steve, stay put."

It wasn't more than five minutes before she reappeared with a ratty pair of Clint's pants and one of Steve's workout t-shirts.

"Right," Tony said, rubbing his hands together, "Natasha's back with clothes, all systems are still green. Let's do this."

The procedure he and JARVIS had pieced together based on the electronics and other tech they could analyse was surprisingly simple; there were three buttons on the outside control panel of the cryo chamber that needed to be hit in a specific sequence, and at specific times. Other than that, as nearly as they could determine, the process was automated.

Hitting the first switch shut off the flow of coolant and started the chamber slowly warming. This step would take several hours, and was the most critical. If something went wrong here, the resulting sudden change in the occupant's body temperature would kill him.

The minutes passed, seeming at once to take forever, and no time at all. After the first half hour, JARVIS notified them of detectable life signs. At the end of the third hour, the temperature inside the chamber had stabilised, but it was still way below normal human body temperature, or even that of the room it stood in.

Hitting the second switch sent the compressors on the back of the thing into overdrive, as they evacuated the chamber itself of cool air and gradually replaced it with ambient air. A small tank mounted on the back of the chamber enriched the air inside with additional oxygen, to jump-start the occupant's metabolic activity.

Another long wait later, the temperature had more or less stabilised at ambient temperatures, and the atmosphere in the workshop was tense. But still silent except for Tony's muttering and JARVIS' responses. The vital signs coming from the man in the chamber were stronger now, and still holding steady.

The third, and final, switch was the release for the chamber's door.

Steve came over to stand in front of the hulking piece of equipment, staring through the tiny window at the man inside, and, Tony knew, remembering his best friend. Tony hesitated a moment, wondering just what hitting it would bring, then steeled himself.

With a hiss of opening hermetic seals and escaping air, the large front panel of the chamber popped open a bare centimeter. Just enough for Steve to get his fingers around and lift it open. Natasha had come up to stand behind Tony and to his left. When Steve let go of the door panel and stepped back, it put him behind Tony on his other side.

There were still wisps of condensation in the air of the chamber, and the guy inside it was still out cold. But now that he could see the man clearly, Tony had to admit it was definitely Barnes. This guy was the spitting image of the man in the newsreels, albeit a lot scruffier and with much longer unkempt hair.

The prosthetic left arm was what immediately caught and held Tony's attention, though. He'd seen the mentions of a guy fitting this description in the files he'd hacked from SHIELD during the Chitauri Invasion. Based on what she'd implied at breakfast, Natasha also knew. The biggest hurdle here was that Steve didn't.

Barnes was also the Winter Soldier.

Motherfucker. Rhodey was going to kill him when he heard.

The man's eyes opened, and he stared blankly at Tony for a minute in silence. No one else spoke. Eventually, Barnes tried his voice. "What is my mission," he asked dully.

Natasha put her hand at the small of Tony's back for a moment, steadying him, then asked, "What is your name?"

"The asset has no name," came the reply.

Steve made a choked sound at the back of his throat, but seemed to realise that this was a delicate moment. Tony was sure if he looked back, he'd see that Steve's fists were clenched.

Carefully, Tony asked, "Does the asset have an alternative designation?"

"Yes, sir," he replied in that same dull tone, "it is assigned by the asset's handler prior to mission start, when the asset is briefed." He looked up at a point just above Tony's left shoulder but not quite at Natasha, completely ignoring everyone else in the area except Tony, who he had apparently latched onto as his handler. "What is my designation to be for my mission, sir?"

Well, fuck. Tony thought quickly. "Your designation is James Buchanan Barnes, alias 'Bucky'. Mission briefing will occur in one to two weeks' time, after you have adjusted to current technology levels and been briefed on sociopolitical developments since your last mission," Tony said, trying to buy all of them time to think and adjust to this new development. "What was the date of your last mission?"

Bucky gave him a blank look. "Sir?"

Tony tried another tack. "I was not briefed on your previous mission. When was it?"

"December 17, 1991, sir."

It was like a lightning bolt coming out of a clear sky, and Tony abruptly wanted to sit down. Steeling himself, forcing his spine straight as though this was a press conference, he nodded. "I will assign you a living space, and your pre-mission briefing will be handled in part by my artificial intelligence, JARVIS. He will get you up to speed on the important events since your last mission. Agent Romanov and Captain Rogers," he indicated Natasha and Steve, "will be assisting in this, as well. They will be your primary sources of information about your current identity."

Bucky nodded. "Yes, sir. Where are my assigned living quarters?"

A quick glance at Natasha was enough to decide the issue. "You will be given the apartments on floor 89," he told Bucky, naming Natasha's old floor, no longer in use, since she had effectively moved in with him and Pepper. Turning to look at Natasha, he asked, "if you would show Mr. Barnes how to get to his living quarters and introduce him to JARVIS properly?"

Natasha nodded. "Come with me, Barnes."

"Ma'am." He followed her out of the workshop, docilely, his eyes darting everywhere, cataloguing.

Once he was sure the two of them were out of sight, Tony staggered over to the sofa and collapsed down onto it. "Jesus fuck."

He'd never even suspected that his parents' deaths had been arranged, and not a simple accident. But now he was faced with the clear implication that they'd been assassinated. And it was highly likely that Barnes had done it. Or. More accurately: that the Winter Soldier had. This guy clearly was not the Barnes that Steve remembered, or the man seen on the old newsreels. Barnes had been handsome, willing to smile and joke, and clearly one of the closest friends a man could hope to find, devoted to Steve and loyal to the end.

This man? The Winter Soldier? Was none of those things. His hair was long and unkempt, lank and obviously not cared for on more than a superficial level. Tony suspected it had only ever been cut when it had started getting in the way. And the same was likely true of the scruff all over his face and neck. He looked nothing like the clean cut Barnes that had stood next to Captain America and helped keep him alive.

There was no way he could blame Barnes for his parents' deaths. Not really. That had been an act he'd had no control over; that much was blatantly obvious. Just the way he's simply accepted everything, from Tony's supposed position of authority as the guy standing directly in front of the chamber as it opened, to the name he'd been assigned and the quarters he'd been given.

There had been no spark in his eyes.

That was the most unnerving thing of all, in this, really. If you asked Tony.

Steve, still rooted to the floor where he'd been standing, made a pained sound. "That sounds about right," he answered after a long pause.

"I..." Tony searched for words. "Come here," he asked plaintively, throwing an arm across his face, knowing the hitch in his voice would telegraph his state better than words.

Steve turned to face him, then apparently remembered how his legs worked once he realised how upset Tony was. He sat next to Tony, just close enough for their arms to touch. "Tony? Are you alright?"

"No?"

Steve snorted, amused despite himself. "That's a question, not an answer, Tony."

Tony groaned. "I don't know."

"What's got you so upset?"

"That date," he replied, not sure how to say it. He didn't know whether he wanted to voice what he was suddenly so certain of.

"What about it," Steve wrapped one arm around Tony's shoulders, using the grip to haul him upright and then into his lap.

Wrapped in strong arms, he actually felt almost able to talk. It felt irrationally safe. "That's the date my parents died."

Steve's grip on him tightened briefly. "Oh."

Tony really didn't want to say this next bit. He was damned sure it would send Steve into a bad mood that it would take a while to shake. But he couldn't keep it secret. "Steve, there's something you need to know about him."

"What's that, Tony," Steve asked him when he fell silent. His tone feel somewhere between curious and apprehensive.

"Well," Tony swallowed against the roughness in his voice, "I found some records in SHIELD's servers just after the Chitauri mess."

Steve nodded slowly, clearly trying to work out what that had to do with anything. "Okay?"

"Those records, Steve, involved a guy with a metal arm. How many of those have you come across in recent history?"

Steve gave him a sardonic look. "I've been working on it, but I'm not exactly up to date on recent history, Tony. You know that."

"Well, let me fill in some blanks for you, then. JARVIS? The relevant files, if you don't mind?" A set of four holographic interfaces sprang to life under his fingertips. Images he'd hacked from SHIELD as well as the related news articles he'd dug out of the internet. The images in SHIELD's files were all low quality, but unmistakably of the man that had just stepped out of the cryo chamber if you knew what to look for. Ergo, of Barnes. They featured him in various poses, but always holding a weapon of some kind, and were clearly taken from a long distance away.

All of the articles talked about the high profile assassinations of the twentieth century: Martin Luther King Jr., Kennedy, Ngô Đình Diệm, and Malcolm X, just to name a few. And, apparently his parents as well; Howard would have been influential enough to make the list, so to speak, had it been known that his death was in fact not an accident.

The thing that stood out, once you'd seen the SHIELD pictures? All of the articles were from reputable sources, and all of them claimed, at least in passing, that a man with a metal arm had been sighted in the vicinity either just before or just after the shootings. In most cases more than a mile away, granted, but by all accounts Barnes had been a crack shot even while he'd been fighting the good fight at Steve's side.

Steve, who was slowly flicking through the images and documents, his expression stony. It took him a while to speak. "You don't think that... your father--" he broke off mid-sentence.

"There's no real proof one way or the other, Steve," Tony said, letting his forehead fall to Steve's shoulder. Steve tucked his head in close to his neck and tilted his head until his cheek was touching Tony's forehead, taking comfort of his own from the contact. "All we have is circumstantial evidence. Nothing Barnes says would be admissible in any kind of legal scenario, given what was done to him. The use of the cryo chamber alone would be enough to convince most people he has PTSD to cope with. And the way he just latched onto me without even looking around the room first smacks very strongly of years of conditioning. No," he muttered, knowing Steve would hear him, "what matters is finding out who did this to Barnes and hunting them down."

Steve nodded, letting Tony feel the motion. "We'll also have to tell SHIELD, at some point," he reminded Tony, who groaned but allowed the change of topic.

"I'm personally inclined to tell Fury, and _only_ Fury," he said, "if we have to tell them at all. This is about as top secret as it's possible to get."

Steve huffed. "That sounds about right. But what should we tell him?"

"As little as possible," Tony replied, tone firm. "I know you trust him, more or less, but this situation means that trust needs to go out the window temporarily. He's got control over SHIELD, but the Council that tried to nuke New York is still an unknown quantity, and they are still his COs."

"Sir," JARVIS interjected, "Ms. Potts would like to know what the protocol for dinner will be tonight."

Meaning, were they bringing Bucky.

"Tell her to order for one more, J," he decided, "and ask Natasha to bring him up when it's time."

Steve lifted his head far enough to give him a skeptical look. "Is that a good idea? Will you be calm enough for that?"

Tony sighed and sat up straighter. "It's the best of a bunch of bad options. Yeah, it'll probably set me on edge, but I'll be better than if I'm wondering what he's doing, off in an isolated corner. If we have him eating with us, he gets used to the team, we can keep an eye on him, and all of us will be around to deal with any emergencies."

"I don't know." Steve still looked unconvinced. "It seems like one hell of a risk."

"I'd have thought you'd be arguing in favour," Tony shot back. "You've got your friend back in body. We can work on the spirit. He seems to be fine with you and Natasha. As long as we introduce the others as team and onsides, it ought to be alright."

"I know," Steve replied, leaning his forehead against Tony's, "I just can't shake the feeling that something horrible is looming on the horizon. And this is just the beginning."


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner had gone well, though the conversation had been stilted at first. It had taken Clint and Pepper a few minutes to work past having Barnes silently sitting off to one side and watching. He hadn't said a word until Natasha had prompted him to speak, and when he did, it had been almost robotic. Tony had wanted to wince at the way each word had looked like it was cutting at Steve. He himself had recovered somewhat from the shock he'd gotten earlier, but he knew Pepper and Natasha could see that he was off-balance.

Afterward, Clint and Pepper had left the room. Not hastily, but they definitely hadn't lingered.

A surprisingly comfortable silence fell, then. Tony wasn't quite sure how to approach the situation, and he knew Steve just wanted his best friend back. That wasn't liable to happen for a while. 

Eventually Natasha spoke. "Have you called in, Captain?"

"Not yet." Steve gratefully took the opening. "I should go deal with that, if you'll be alright on your own."

"I think we'll manage," Natasha replied, with a small smile. That, oddly, got a twitch of a reaction out of Barnes, and she turned back to him. "Is something bothering you, Barnes?"

"No, ma'am," he answered immediately, and his expression never changed but Tony could tell there was something going on deep in his mind.

She stood gracefully a moment later. "In that case, your time is your own until 2300 hours. I recommend you spend it talking to JARVIS and reading up on recent events in your assigned quarters. Breakfast will be here on the common floor at 0700 hours tomorrow."

Barnes nodded and stood, waiting.

Tony wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Natasha knew though. "Dismissed to quarters."

A moment later, he was in the elevator and gone. Natasha looked up at JARVIS' camera and added, "let me know if he gets restless, JARVIS?"

"I will, Ms. Romanov. Might I recommend discussing a more permanent solution for Mr. Barnes with the good Captain at some point? This situation seems to be causing him some distress."

Tony wanted to groan; he'd thought they'd worked through the worst of it before dinner. "Where is he, J?"

"Currently in the gym, sir."

"Beating the hell out of the heavy bag again?" Natasha looked like she wanted to beat some sense into Steve. Tony wasn't sure that would help.

"He is," the AI replied.

Natasha caught Tony's eyes, and gave him a meaningful look. "Go talk to him."

Tony groaned. "Why me? You know I'm terrible at feelings."

"You've been getting better," she shot back. "Go distract him."

Grumbling under his breath, he went.

As JARVIS had told them, Tony found Steve in the gym. Also as indicated, he was trying to destroy the reinforced heavy bag Tony had made him after he'd destroyed the first five normal ones.

"You know," he opened, "Natasha's worried about you."

Steve didn't pause in the heavy blows he was dealing the bag, and he didn't reply.

Tony sat on the bench off to Steve's left, where he'd be just about in sight. He watched for a moment, enjoying the grace and power of Steve's movements before he spoke again. "Is it justified?"

Steve still didn't reply, but Tony could see his expression twist sharply. After another three punches, Tony tried a third time. "Is punching things helping?"

This time he got a verbal reply. "To a point."

Alright, then. Tony nodded, making a decision; Steve needed something to focus on that wasn't going to send him farther into what looked suspiciously like a cycle of self-blame. "I'm not going anywhere while you do that."

"Suit yourself," Steve grunted, getting the words out between blows to the bag.

"And when you're done, you're coming upstairs with me," he said, and Steve's rhythmic blows to the heavy bag actually faltered for the briefest of instants. "You're going to spend some time with us before bed."

"Doing what," came the somewhat predictable demand.

"Whatever. I'm pretty sure Pepper and Natasha want to cuddle someone, and that can get complicated sometimes when it's just the three of us. There's only so much of me to go around."

Steve actually made an amused sound, at that, though he didn't let up in his workout. "Egotistical, aren't you."

"Haven't had any complaints so far," Tony shot back, "in bed or out of it."

"You know," Steve said, "the more you build yourself up," he paused for a punch combination, "the higher my expectations of you will be," another punch combination, "when we finally get a chance to experiment one-on-one."

Tony grinned. "Oh, just you wait, Captain," he purred, letting his voice slip down into a lower register. "You'll see just how good I am. Tonight if you like."

"Hmm," Steve started mixing it up, adding kicks in between his punches. "Is that a good idea?"

Tony could tell a lot of the tension had left Steve's shoulders and was reluctantly forced to concede that Natasha might have been right to send him after Steve. "Isn't it," he replied, hearing his own tone go slightly challenging.

Without missing a beat, Steve turned away from the bag, letting it swing and seemingly not caring as he stalked toward the bench Tony was sitting on. "Are you telling me you're not upset anymore?"

"Not really. Got that out of my system before we ate. I bounce back quickly from most things now, Cap," Tony smirked up at him, "including orgasms."

"Is that so," Steve sounded somewhere between intrigued and skeptical.

"Come find out," Tony smirked at him, fairly confident that the challenge would be taken up.

"And if I wanted to do that in my own apartments," Steve suggested, "what then?"

"Don't see why that would be an issue," Tony shrugged. "You have the requisite supplies there?"

"Natasha gave me some." Steve reached down, offering his hand. Tony took it, wrapping his hand around the inside of Steve's elbow, and feeling Steve's hand go around his own forearm. A moment later, he was hauled to his feet, finding himself nose-to-nose with Steve.

Pleased with that development, Tony threaded a hand through the short hair at the nape of Steve's neck, and pulled him in those last two centimeters for a first kiss.

They stayed there, exploring and experimenting for a long minute. Both getting accustomed to the caress; Steve's lips were lightly chapped, and he tasted like Gatorade. A fact that amused Tony rather more than it probably should have. Steve kept it fairly chaste at first, only getting bolder after he'd had a chance to get used to the feeling. Tony was pretty sure it was the beard that was causing the tentativeness. Steve wasn't generally shy about much of anything.

Sure enough, once he'd mapped out how it felt and his own reactions to it, Steve pushed for more. Tony gave it to him happily, his hands going to Steve's waist for balance as he used lips and tongue to tease Steve's mouth open, deepening the kiss until he started to run out of breath. Pulling back, Tony licked his lips, letting their noses bump together.

"So," he prompted after a moment, "your place?"

"Right." Steve was off like a shot, all but carrying Tony, who stumbled a little, laughing at the reaction that simple question had gotten.

Something told Tony this would be awesome.

Tony fell against Steve as they got in the waiting elevator -- Tony resolved to upgrade something for JARVIS -- and spent the short ride making out enthusiastically. When the elevator doors opened again, Steve picked Tony up bodily, impatient to get to the fun part. He opened his apartment door and locked it behind them, before he half jogged through the apartment to his bedroom.

It was cute, how eager he was, and hot, how easily Steve manhandled him. As he was dropped on the bed, bouncing once on the mattress, Tony decided he could let it go.

It was totally worth it for the sight Steve made crawling up the length of his body, anyway.

Tony wasn't sure what came out of his mouth, then, but it wasn't words that made sense. He knew that much, by the way Steve snickered at him.

"So," Tony reached up to run his hands over well-muscled arms and shoulders as Steve drew level with him, putting them face-to-face, "was there something specific you wanted to try?"

"Not as such?" Steve gave him a measuring look. "Why? Was there something you wanted?"

"Yeah," Tony replied, trailing his hands down Steve's torso to play with the waistband of his pants, actually kind of enjoying the way the exertion had made Steve sweat a little. He smelled damn good. "You in me."

"Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that. You know what to do?"

"Natasha and Pepper showed me." Steve leaned over to retrieve lube and a condom, tossing them onto the mattress in easy reach. The sight sent a frisson of excitement down Tony's spine.

"Good. Then I won't have to," Tony untucked Steve's shirt, sliding his hands underneath it to touch bare skin. The contact sent a shiver through Steve, and Tony could feel the way his muscles tensed as he tried not to push into the caress. "Now," he added, "shirt off. I want to touch you properly."

Steve nodded, and sat back on his heels, pulling Tony up with him into a sitting position. "As long as I can touch too."

He pulled Tony's hands up with one hand, and used the other first to tug the t-shirt off, and then the long-sleeved shirt underneath it. Tony returned the favor once his hands were freed, peeling Steve's damp shirt up and then waiting for Steve to raise his hands before pulling it off over his head.

"That's better," Tony nodded, running his hands over bared skin. 

After a beat, Steve followed suit. If his hand lingered over the place the arc reactor had once sat for several heartbeats and Tony covered it with his own, well, that was between them.

The moment broke when Steve took his hand back, and reached for the waistband of Tony's pants, fumbling slightly as he worked them open. It meant his knuckles brushed against Tony's hard cock, repeatedly, sending shocks through Tony every time they made contact, even through the material of his boxers.

When Tony found the coordination to return the favor, Steve made a high pitched sound in the back of his throat. This time he couldn't stop himself from pushing into the touch.

Tony chuckled. "Sensitive?"

"Little bit," Steve gritted out. "Taking the edge off helps."

"Does it now," Tony grinned. "Do you want to?"

"Not yet."

That was fine by him. Tony was quite content to let Steve do things at his own pace for now. Yes, he was hard, and, yes, he wanted Steve in him approximately fifteen minutes ago. But he knew better than to rush things with someone with comparatively little experience. "Gonna open me up instead, then," he asked, and watched, pleased, as Steve flushed pink from the base of his throat to his ears.

"Gonna hold still," Steve asked, his tone somewhere between authoritative and challenging.

It sent a spark of heat down Tony's spine. "Do you want me to?"

"For now."

"Alright. Gotta warn you, though," he told Steve, arranging himself more comfortably on the bed, "I might come on your fingers if you're not careful."

Steve gave him a look. "Thought you said you'd be able to go again."

"Oh, I can. Do you want to wait that long?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something we can do while you recover."

Tony laughed and shoved his underwear down to his knees. "Probably."

Steve reached down to pull it all the way off, pulling Tony's pants off with it, before he removed the rest of his clothes. Tony, unable to resist the urge to touch, ran his hands over the skin he could reach, trailing them lightly down Steve's flanks and grinning at the series of slight twitches and goosebumps that move got him.

For his part, Steve seemed willing to just accept the caress for the moment, so Tony explored, getting a little bolder. He pressed his left hand flat against Steve's abs then slid it upward, enjoying the way he almost got caught on the sheer definition of Steve's muscles. The man was gorgeous to look at, but even better to touch. Meantime, his other hand stayed more or less where it had ended up, leaving him with a handful of Steve's ass to enjoy.

Eventually, Steve broke the silence. "You're gonna have to let go of me if you want me to open you up, you know."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "I think you underestimate my ability and enjoyment when it comes to sex. You just get the lube and shift down a little..." he paused significantly, "unless you'd rather I give you a practical demonstration of what I mean."

Steve actually stopped to consider that. "Is that something you'd want?"

Tony held Steve's eyes as he pushed himself up on his elbows until their noses were almost touching. "I love getting fucked, Steve," he said bluntly, doing his best to drive home his point here and now, "but I have no compunctions about trying to put you through this mattress, if that's something _you_ want." The way Steve's eyes went darker at that was nearly enough to convince Tony on the spot, but he waited. Without a verbal yes, he wasn't doing a thing. "Steve?"

Steve's hands went under Tony's shoulders, and he rolled them until Tony was sprawled out on top of him. "Do it," he requested, a shiver running through him. "I--" he broke off, and let his head fall back to the pillows, his eyes closing. "I want to know."

Tony pushed himself up onto his elbows again. "What do you want to know? What it feels like?"

That got him a nod, and Tony grinned, knowing his glee was probably visible. The idea that he'd be Steve's first was also a ridiculous turn on, right out of his adolescent fantasies, not that he was ever going to admit to that. "So Clint didn't feel like going the whole way, did he? Well, more fun for us."

"Clint showed me other things," Steve defended lightly.

"Yeah? What?" Tony asked, curious, now. Clint hadn't actually done that much bragging about specifically what they'd done. Just gone on and on about Steve's stamina.

He reached for the lube as Steve considered how to answer that, settling himself on his side on the mattress and adjusting himself so that he was pressed up against Steve's flank, from his shoulder to his knee. The position left Steve relatively free to move, and let Tony apply his mouth to Steve's skin if he wanted.

"Well," Steve eventually said, his light blush back and darker now, most of his attention pretty obviously on Tony's fingers as he lubed them up, "he mostly tried to find my limits. Even after I told him Natasha and Pepper already tried that once. Got me off a few times before he couldn't take it anymore, and just jerked off as he gave me a blowjob."

Fuck, that was a hot mental image.

Tony had to stop and take a deep breath. "Okay. But you've tried this with Pepper and Nat, right?"

"Yeah, but this is different."

Tony threaded his arm under Steve's leg, and brought his hand down into contact with the sensitive skin around Steve's opening, letting him get used to the feeling of callouses and lube. "Different?"

Steve gave him a sardonic look. "Well, you won't need a strap-on."

The dry humour startled a laugh out of Tony, and he shook his head. "True. Tell me if and when you want to stop," he instructed, pushing a fingertip into Steve and riding out the thrust of his hips.

"Shut up and get your fingers in me, Tony," Steve demanded.

Giving in, Tony gave Steve what he apparently wanted, trying not to let the sight and feeling drive him far enough to tempt him into rubbing off against Steve's hip. Steve took the first two fingers easily, and giving him three made him writhe. It rubbed his thigh against Tony in a way that was exquisite torture and rapidly convinced Tony three was enough.

Steve seemed to agree. "Come on, I'm ready," he pleaded. "Not gonna break."

Tony fumbled for the condom, searching for it by touch. He didn't find it, and was brought up short a moment later when he felt a hand roll one onto him. He stared down at the hands on him, confused, until Steve held out a hand in a silent request for lube. That got him moving again, and he poured some lube over Steve's fingers.

"I could do that myself, you know," he quipped.

"But this is more fun," Steve replied, smirking up at him. "Now, come here," he added, urging Tony into position with the way his hands fell to Tony's hips and tugged, gently but insistently.

Tony let Steve guide him into position, taking charge again once he was settled. He hooked Steve's knees over his shoulders, and hurriedly stuffed a pillow under the small of his back. Steve's hands didn't move, and Tony felt himself pulled in closer still.

"Ready?" Tony caught Steve's eyes, and reached down to line himself up.

Steve grumbled something under his breath and just pulled until Tony was half buried. Tony bit his lip, hard, needing something to distract him from the way he was suddenly wrapped in tight wet warmth. 

"Fuck! Steve," Tony found himself trying vainly to catch his breath. "Damn, you feel amazing."

"So do you, Tony." Smiling almost smugly, Steve stopped for a bare second to let them both adjust, then shifted his grip to Tony's ass. 

Pulled in until his hips were pressed against skin, as deep as he could go in this position, all Tony could really do was hold on and try not to come too soon.

Steve, it seemed, had no such qualms; he kept his firm grip on Tony's ass, and used the leverage it gave him to grind up against him. Tony found himself fisting his hands in the sheets next to Steve's shoulders and just letting Steve do as he wanted.

"Damn, Tony," he said, his voice rough with lust and deeper than usual. "I want you to make me come," he said, "and hold off on coming yourself. Think you can do that?"

The request alone was one of the hottest things Tony thought he'd ever heard. It took him a moment to scrape together the words for a response. "I can try," he managed after a couple of breaths, "but I'm already pretty close. You're too damn hot for your own good."

Steve smirked at him and reached up with one hand to pull him down for a deep kiss that sent a visceral shudder through Tony with its intensity. Their noses bumped every so often, and Steve caught caught his lower lip between his teeth, teasing. When they broke apart, what seemed like an hour later, Steve finally replied. "You're not so shabby yourself. Now, move!"

Feeling somewhat more in control of himself than he had before the kiss, Tony obliged. He started slowly, shifting just slightly after every thrust in an attempt to find the right angle. When he found it, Steve made the most amazing guttural sound. "Good?" Tony asked him, with a breathless laugh.

"Yes. Harder," Steve demanded, his hands going back to Tony's ass and using the leverage he had to add force to Tony's movements.

"Oh!" It didn't take much more for Steve to come, his grip on Tony going bruisingly tight as he threw back his head and his back arched. It would have thrown Tony off balance and sent him sprawling, had Steve not still been holding him in place. He wasn't sure how, but he did manage to keep from following Steve over that edge into afterglow.

Once Steve relaxed slightly, coming down off the high and letting his hands fall to the mattress, Tony decided he wanted to try something. An experimental thrust had Steve clenching around him with a moan, his hands fisting in the thoroughly mussed blankets. A second sent a strong aftershock through him and resulted in a last splatter of come landing on his abs. Tony was hard pressed not to abandon all his attempts to hold back.

Feeling like he hung suspended on the edge for several minutes, Tony waited until Steve's breathing had shallowed and slowed a little, then tried to pull out. He was brought up short by the way Steve's hands were suddenly back on him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Huh?" Tony couldn't seem to work out what that meant, exactly.

Steve huffed, amused. "That was nice, now keep going."

Tony stared at him. "Uhh, what?"

"Keep going. Fuck me until I'm hard again," Steve said, impatience making him blunter than usual. "I want to see you come inside me. And then we're switching off."

Well. Alright then.

Doing his best to force himself calm, Tony took a breath and started moving again, slowly, grinding against Steve on the end of every inward thrust. Each thrust pulled a small sound out of Steve, interspersed with quiet pleas for more, and Tony wished Natasha were here so he could kiss her for about two hours for showing Steve this. Or giving him the idea. Whichever it was.

It really didn't take long for the first truly interested twitches to start going through Steve, and Tony couldn't help but be jealous of his short recovery time. "Okay," he asked, knowing exactly what it felt like to be fucked until he was hard, right after an orgasm.

"Not gonna break," Steve reiterated, and Tony gave in, letting instinct goad him into driving himself home faster and harder. 

When Steve started actively participating again, his hands coming up to touch Tony rather than rhythmically clench in the sheets with each thrust, Tony felt a shiver go down his spine with a jolt.

"That's it, Tony," Steve grinned, encouraging him to use more force. "Go on. I want to see you come."

That was it. He was done. Those words in that tone... His orgasm hit him with enough intensity to make the world go white. When he could process the input from his senses again, he was sprawled over Steve's torso, still trying vainly to regulate his breathing, and Steve's hard cock was pinned between their stomachs. "Goddamn," was all he could think of to say.

Steve snickered. "Go clean up," he said, punctuating the command with a light slap to the outside of Tony's thigh.

Grumbling Tony obeyed, pulling out slowly and somewhat gingerly. "I'd really rather stay put."

"Don't care," Steve told him.

Tony could almost feel the way Steve's eyes were glued to his back and ass. "Ugh, fine."

Knowing that he was probably going to get dirty again soon, Tony disposed of the condom and washed hastily. The air felt cooler on his skin than usual, and that was also good motivation for him to get back to Steve. Finishing what he was doing and drying himself off, he grabbed a fresh condom and stepped back out into the room.

The sight that met his eyes was almost enough to stun him speechless. Almost. Steve, laid out on the bed, still looking debauched what with the come splattered all over the left side of his lower torso, had decided to entertain himself by jerking off. Tony stared, watching the flushed head of Steve's cock disappear into his fist and then push back out, and swallowed hard. "Got tired of waiting, did you," he quipped, hearing the slight hoarseness in his voice.

"Something else Natasha showed me," Steve smirked at him. "Never thought I'd enjoy showing off like this, but," he broke off when his breath hitched, catching in his throat, "it feels so much better than doing it alone."

Tony had to try more than once to get himself moving again. "Didn't take you for an exhibitionist."

"Mmm, 'm not."

"Okay." Tony dropped the condom onto the nightstand to lie next to the lube, and stretched out on the bed next to Steve. "Can I touch?"

"If you want," Steve replied, his breath coming a little shorter and his hand moving faster.

Tony took the opportunity to explore, as he hadn't earlier. He started at Steve's ankles, running his fingertips lightly over skin, and following them with his mouth. The fine body hair Steve did have barely registered, even against the sensitive skin of his lips, and Tony wasn't sure whether he was more amused or turned on, in this moment, for all that he wasn't hard yet.

He found a sensitive spot on the inside of Steve's right knee, and took shameless advantage of it, trying to get Steve to come into his hand. Steve yelped when he caught the skin between his teeth, but the sound wasn't pained. Just surprised.

"Shit, Tony! What--" he broke off when Tony started trying to suck a hickey into the skin, and took a rasping breath. "If you don't stop, I'm going to come," he managed to get out, "and I wanted to get inside you first."

Tony let go of the bright red patch of skin and said, "so do it. You can get it up again, right?"

"Yeah, but--" his words cut off in a keening whine when Tony went back to what he was doing, licking and sucking at the spot, trying to leave a nice hickey. As he'd claimed, it didn't take much more before Steve was coming all over his hand and belly again with a groan.

Tony didn't let go of the skin in his mouth until Steve reached down and threaded a hand into his hair, pulling him away. "Too much?" he asked.

"Little bit." Steve used his grip to pull Tony in for a leisurely kiss. "Nice, though."

A few minutes into their makeout session, Tony felt himself start to harden again, and it was obvious Steve noticed it too. He wrapped a hand around Tony's dick and started leisurely jerking him off, roughly to the same rhythm as their kisses. 

He waited until Tony was properly hard, before he rolled them over, putting Tony on his back and hooking one of Tony's legs over his shoulder as he went. "Ready for more?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you kidding? I've been looking forward to this for a long fucking time. Open me up."

"Fine. You know how this works." Steve didn't waste any time after that. Tony watched him lube up his fingers, his attention riveted, but his eyes caught on Steve's halfway through watching those lubed fingers descend towards his skin. The first touch, when it came, made him jump. It seemed a lot more intense, with the way Steve was staring into his eyes like he could see right through them and into Tony's thoughts. When the first finger pushed into him, Tony hissed a curse, wanting more but knowing Steve wouldn't let him rush things. Even as new to things as he was, Tony knew he would be a stickler for doing it once and doing it right.

When the second finger entered him, Tony couldn't help the way his eyes fell shut and his head fell back. "More," he tried to demand, "come on, Steve, you're killing me, here!"

Steve chuckled, the bastard, and increased the pace just slightly. It brought the sensation up from 'fucking tease' to 'just barely enough to feel'. Tony's hands flew up from their positions in the blankets to wrap around Steve's upper arms. The feeling of the muscles in Steve's arm flexing as he stretched him was nothing short of amazingly hot. "One more," he pleaded, his voice hitting a whining note without his conscious decision to do it. "Steve!"

"Alright, alright," Steve tried to soothe him, and gave him what he wanted.

The stretch hit some need deep in his subconscious and satisfied it, giving him a glow like a well-scratched itch, and Tony tried to thrust up into the movement of those fingers. Steve didn't let him get farther than that, though. Not until he was confident that the prep had been sufficient.

When those talented fingers were pulled free, leaving him empty and wanting, Tony tried to find the words to complain.

Before he could, though, Steve was back, and this time he was offering something even better than his fingers. Steve lined himself up and then just stayed there, poised and ready, but not in him. Tony wanted to groan and possibly kick him.

"Ready," Steve smirked at him.

"Get the fuck in me, already!" Tony threw his other leg, the one not over Steve's shoulder, around his waist, trying to physically pull him in closer. It didn't work, but Steve did push in just far enough for the head of his cock to be inside Tony.

Even that much made the room's air feel overly warm, and Tony bucked up, wanting more, deeper. The movement got him a couple more inches of Steve, but afterward, Steve used one of his hands to hold his hips steady.

Tony whined at him. "Fucking hell, Steve! Stop _teasing_!"

"That's nothing," Steve shot back. "I'll pin you down to the bed and tease you for real sometime later. Or maybe I'll ask Natasha to hold you down for me."

And, Jesus fuck, that was a mental image. Tony could almost have come untouched just from that.

Thankfully, Steve decided that they were safe enough, now, and slid in until the length of him was sheathed. Tony carefully clenched his muscles around him, wanting to _feel_ every inch. It worked, and got him a low choked moan into the bargain.

"Tony," Steve panted out, visibly trying to hold onto his control with teeth and nails, "stop that."

"Yeah, no," Tony replied, doing what he could to grind against Steve and make the hard cock inside him hit his sensitive points. "Come on, show me what you've got," he challenged, and watched Steve's expression shift from aroused through amused and knowing before it settled on what looked like determined.

Without another word, Steve readjusted the angle at which their hips met by increments until Tony twitched as a jolt of pleasure ran up his spine. Yep, there it was. Steve knew it too. He started moving slowly, steadily increasing the pace until Tony was shifting restlessly, held in place by Steve's strength. He couldn't move, couldn't meet the spine-meltingly good thrusts. He could only take it, and try to hold out longer than a few seconds.

He tried to speak, and fumbled the words. Steve smirked at him again, and Tony really wanted to know where the hell the smug bastard had found the brain power to do so.

When he fell over the edge into orgasm, what felt like half an eternity later, Steve was right there with him, coming with an inarticulate shout. It threw all of his figure into relief as his muscles tensed, from his trim waist to his broad shoulders. Tony managed another two jerky thrusts, before he went limp and boneless.

It took them a few minutes to find the energy to move enough to clean themselves up. Once they'd come down from the high a little, Steve had started slowly untangling their limbs and pulled out. He stripped off the condom and carefully tied it before he turned to Tony, and nudged him with an elbow.

"Right, on your feet, Tony," he demanded. Standing and pulling Tony with him, he got them moving toward the bathroom before he let go of the grip he'd gotten on Tony's waist. "We both need to get cleaned up a bit."

"Mmm, but effort," Tony mumbled, letting himself fall forward until his forehead was just below Steve's collarbone, and his nose tucked between those glorious pecs.

Steve huffed, amused, and steered them over toward the sink. Wetting a towel, he cleaned himself off with it, then did the same for Tony, who hadn't moved to straighten and stand on his own.

"Guess you're staying here for the night, then," Steve asked him.

"Unless you have objections," Tony replied around a yawn.

"I suppose I'll cope. Come on."


	6. Chapter 6

\---chpt 5---

At breakfast the following morning, the two of them got twin smirks from Pepper and Natasha. They didn't find out why until afterward.

They'd settled Bucky on the sofa in the communal living room with a tablet and holographic interface, and then Tony had turned to Pepper and raised an eyebrow at her. "What's so funny?"

"Well," she paused significantly and looked at Natasha. "A certain someone," she pointed at Bucky with her chin, "apparently went looking for you last night around 11, then came looking for Natasha because, and I quote 'my other two primary handlers are fucking'."

Steve buried his face in his hands, and Tony could see the blush rising up the back of his neck. Reaching up to squeeze Steve's shoulder reassuringly, he grinned at Pepper. "You weren't kidding about the way he can just keep going, either."

That broke Steve out of his embarrassed paralysis. "Tony!"

"What? It's true, and a damn good thing."

\------

Two more days passed that way, minus the sex with Steve, who was apparently embarrassed enough not to want a repeat of the experience. At least while Barnes was liable to walk in on them again.

The first day, just after breakfast, Fury called again in what Tony had to assume was a follow-up to their previous discussion, demanding vital statistics and pictures of their rescued popsicle. Tony hesitated to give them to Fury, but Steve had apparently promised them to Fury in exchange for keeping Barnes at the Tower and a relative secret. If Steve hadn't been standing right next to him and nodding, Tony would have refused. As it was, he hung up abruptly, grumbling about meddling spymasters, and he sent the data. Triple encrypted and without the keys, but he sent it. Let Fury work on cracking that nut for a while. He had bigger things to worry about.

Such as Barnes' rehabilitation. He'd missed a lot in the last twenty or so odd years, and it showed. He stared around the Tower at the tech and the fashions, mostly, like it was still futuristic and bizarre to him. He accepted it, sure, but the clear fascination he started to show when no one punished him for showing emotion, and in fact encouraged it, as part of the persona he was supposed to adopt... 

Starting around noon on the second day, Barnes started pausing at odd intervals with a faintly confused look on his face. Tony didn't immediately realise that those were the first flickers of memory reappearing. That only became clear a week later.

It took two more days before Barnes started talking to JARVIS, trying to fish for information. When he realised that Barnes was circling the topic with indirect questions about history, Tony wanted to groan.

Barnes was trying to find out about about his previous missions. Apparently he only remembered the last one he'd been on. And yet here he was, asking suspiciously detailed questions about the Kennedy assassination. Things he really couldn't have known without doing a hell of a lot more research than JARVIS had logged.

Clint overheard him, the next afternoon, while they were lounging in the common room. He and Tony were occupied with other things. Clint was playing Counterstrike, and Tony was working on armour modifications on his tablet, keeping half an eye on Barnes as he worked by taking advantage of Extremis to query JARVIS every so often.

Barnes had gotten much more comfortable with all of them over the past few days, and it showed in his relaxed body language. Once he'd learned that he wasn't going to be arbitrarily punished, he'd unfurled. And _that_ had made Tony want to find whoever had held Barnes and repulsor them in the face. Repeatedly.

He knew, on a very personal level, what that kind of environment was like, and Barnes had potentially been living in it for over sixty years.

In the current moment, though, Barnes was talking to JARVIS about the assassination of Ngô Đình Diệm[5], former President of the Republic of Vietnam. "I thought you said that election was rigged."

"I did, Mr. Barnes," the AI replied. "Many people point to the fact that the total announced number of votes that were reportedly submitted exceeded the number of registered voters by over 380,000."

"Right," Barnes looked unconvinced, for some reason. "But that's not enough reason to kill him."

"Indeed not," JARVIS agreed. "There is also evidence that many of his policies were not well-received by the public he was governing. Three separate coup attempts are recorded, with only the final one achieving any measure of success."

Barnes made a go on gesture, and JARVIS added. "Ngô Đình Diệm was assassinated on November 1, 1963, by an unidentified shooter. He was giving a speech at the old city hall, subsequently renamed Ho Chi Minh City People's Committee, about expanding on his rural development policies, when he was shot and pronounced dead on the scene. The shooter was never found, though several of his political opponents placed the blame on their rivals as they vied for power in the aftermath."

That, naturally got Clint's attention immediately, given that as a sniper one of his hobbies was trying to work out how an assassination had been pulled off. "Always thought that had to be a US sniper," he commented. "The US always claimed they had nothing to do with it, and it was an internal affair, but there aren't many nations or agencies with a shooter that good within their ranks. For the guy to make that shot and vanish without a trace? He'd have to be damned good."

Barnes eyed him. "Without proof, you cannot make that assumption."

"Without proof to the contrary," Clint shot back, "you can't disprove my statement."

It shut Barnes up for a moment. "The shooter would have had a clear line of sight all the way from across the river," he eventually replied.

"Yeah, so?"

"So why do I know that when I've never been there?"

Tony hid a wince. Looked like Barnes was remembering more and more, albeit in bits and pieces.

Clint cut a glance over at Tony before he replied. "What are you trying to say?"

Barnes didn't answer. He turned back to the list of topics JARVIS still had displayed for him and moved on to the next one, calling up the text entry on... something Tony couldn't care less about. Some pop culture thing about the skater culture that had been so popular in the 90s.

"Ooookay, then," Clint eventually said, "guess that's a resounding no to more conversation."

Barnes pointedly said nothing.

\------

On the morning of the fifth day, when Barnes didn't turn up for breakfast, Tony looked up at JARVIS' camera, tucked discreetly into a corner of the kitchen. "Alright, J, where is Barnes? He's normally on time."

"He is in his living quarters, sir, and appears to be in some distress. He asked me not to inform you, but as the intensity has not subsided in the last hour, I would judge intervention is likely needed."

"Fuck," Tony stood, and hurried to the elevator, which, conveniently, stood open and waiting for him. Steve followed him into the car.

The door of the apartment was standing ajar when they arrived in the open floor lobby, and that immediately screamed wrongness to Tony. Barnes was a careful man by nature, and his subsequent conditioning had only reinforced that. He could tell Steve had noticed it too, by the way his body language went from 'tense' to 'on guard'.

JARVIS supplied an image of the apartment via Extremis, the rooms empty save for the bedroom, and Barnes curled on the floor in a corner beside the bed, visibly shaking.

Without saying a word, Steve shouldered him gently out of the way and led the way into the apartment, clearing each room as he went. Tony shrugged and let him. It wasn't worth arguing and possibly spooking Barnes, and he suspected it would make Steve feel better. 

Everything was quiet, every room empty, until they reached the door of the bedroom, way at the back of the apartment, and the most defensible position, that Steve's focus sharpened. Tony could guess why. He'd figured out what Tony had already known.

And this time, when Steve stepped into a room, the tension exploded into movement. Barnes was suddenly on his feet and attacking. Steve cursed, blocking the punch that had been aimed at his temple, and jumped back. "Bucky," he said, tone dipping down into the register he used to give battlefield commands, "it's me!"

Tony dove back through the bedroom door; he had no desire to get caught in the crossfire; neither of them would take that well, albeit for very different reasons. "Barnes," he called, hoping that the sound of his voice might focus the man.

It didn't work; the call got Barnes' attention for a bare second and the next few were a blur of movement. Steve managed to block or counter each attack, but Tony could tell he was holding back, trying not to hurt his friend.

Barnes had no such qualms. He was fighting to injure or possibly kill.

Probably thought he was under immediate threat, Tony realised with a wince. "Hey!" he shouted, channeling Rhodey and putting as much authority into his voice as he could muster, "break it up!"

That, amazingly, had some effect. Barnes paused, and blinked. The flickers of personality he'd started to show were nowhere to be seen, and Tony realised that he was looking at the Asset, rather than the Barnes they had been getting to know.

"Stand down!" Tony added. "Both of you!"

Slowly, incrementally, Barnes did, though Tony could see he was far from calm. Steve watched him carefully, and followed suit, lowering his own guard bit by bit, as Barnes did.

"Now," Tony turned to Barnes, holding a hand up to keep Steve quiet for a moment. "Why did you attack Captain Rogers?"

A shudder went through Barnes. "Sir?"

"I asked you a question. Answer me," he demanded.

"The asset... isn't sure, sir," Barnes replied, clearly expecting to be hit or worse.

Tony thought fast, avoiding looking at Steve. This could present a problem. "Have you been having trouble with your briefing materials?"

"No, sir."

"I am confining you to quarters for the next eight hours," he decided, and saw Barnes relax just slightly. That was a very light punishment for what had just happened, and Tony knew it, but he wasn't about to do anything more extreme. With a nod, Tony turned to Steve. "Captain," he said, careful to keep his tone even, "would you see to it that some breakfast is brought down here?"

Steve was reluctant to leave Tony alone with Barnes after that little episode, and it showed. "Wouldn't it be better to ask Natasha to--"

Tony glared at him and made his tone icy. "Captain."

That brought Steve up short, and he nodded, giving in to the need not to undermine Tony in front of Barnes for the time being. "Fine."

His stiff, clipped response clearly said 'we are having words about this later.' Posture radiating his irritation, Steve turned and left.

Tony wanted to roll his eyes, but Barnes' response to Steve's departure from the apartment was nothing short of astonishing.

He relaxed almost entirely, for all that his posture was still submissive, and asked, "sir, do you know why I remember the Captain from my first missions?"

Oh.

Oh this could get awkward. Fuck.

Tony considered what approach to take, and settled for blunt. "Because you worked closely with him for several years."

Barnes nodded. "Then why do I want to hurt him?"

Well, shit. Tony wanted to throw something. Preferably something fragile. This could very rapidly get ugly, and Steve couldn't know about this yet. "Is there a trigger related to the Captain that was implanted during one of your previous missions?"

Barnes considered that. "I do not know, sir. The only mission I recall was--" He broke off, and Tony wasn't sure why. He waited a long moment, until Barnes continued. "The only mission I recall is the most recent one I was sent on. Here in New York."

Tony groaned internally. That smacked of those memory alteration experiments they had initially been investigating. Trying to make it sound decisive, he replied, "if you feel those urges resurface, let me know. Captain Rogers is not a designated target, and will never be, as long as I am your handler."

"Yes, sir."

The tableau held for a moment before Barnes asked, "what _is_ my mission, sir?"

Tony relaxed a little. "You will be briefed after you finish your current assignment. First, I want you up to date on everything you've missed."

Barnes nodded, accepting that. "Yes, sir."

JARVIS spoke up, then. "Agent Romanov is approaching with Mr. Barnes' breakfast, sir."

"Good," Tony nodded. He turned back to Barnes. "You are going to eat, then go back to your studies, and when you would like lunch, let JARVIS know."

"Sir." Barnes nodded, a look of vague relief on his face.

Tony gestured toward the bedroom door. "On your feet, then, and into the kitchen."

\------

That night, Steve ended up looking for comfort from Pepper. For his part, Tony fell asleep wrapped around Natasha, needing some kind of anchor. He had no idea whether he was handling Barnes correctly or not, and the uncertainty was eating at him.

After that, even after his 'punishment' was over, it took two days before he would let anyone other than Tony approach him. Anyone else felt like they were chasing a ghost. It took four days before Barnes would allow any them to approach him at all, even briefly.

Walking into the communal living room on the sixth day, hard on the heels of a meeting with his R&D department heads, and just after he'd scarfed down a hurried lunch in the kitchen, Tony was stunned to see Steve lounging on the sofa, awake, and Barnes all but sprawled on top of him, dead asleep.

He caught Steve's eyes, trying to ask for an explanation, and got a slight shake of Steve's head in reply. Fine, later.

Rolling his eyes, Tony gave in and took the elevator back down to the corporate levels. Pepper needed him back in ten minutes, and he would rather spend them with her for the moment, anyway.

Later that night, after dinner, Barnes sought him out, and Tony found out first hand what had happened. It was disorienting to see the almost mechanical 'asset' mentality simply gone. This was Steve's friend.

Barnes, no _Bucky_ , stepped up and offered his hand. "Mr. Stark."

"Barnes," Tony looked him over. "You wanted something?"

That, surprisingly, got a smirk in response. "Well, thought I oughtta at least greet my host properly," he said.

Tony laughed, startled into it, and took the offered hand. "I'd say 'welcome', but, well." He let go of Bucky's hand and paused for a beat before he continued. "What happened?"

"That morning, almost a week ago," Bucky replied, clearly forcing down some lingering guilt, "where you forced me not to attack Steve?"

Tony nodded, not saying a word.

"That was when the memories started coming back," Bucky said. "Whole memories, not the flickers and flashes from before."

"So you're saying you remember everything now," Tony asked, not sure he believed it. The whole thing seemed far too easy. Too good to be true.

"I think so," Bucky looked haunted for a long moment. "It's hard to tell around the wipes they did and the years I spent frozen."

"Who," Tony had to ask. "Who did that? We weren't able to find out."

Bucky frowned. "I don't know. They never told me their names. Or if they did, that's something I haven't remembered yet."

\------

Over the course of the next week, Tony only rarely saw Steve or Bucky separately. It was like they were attached at the hip, and Steve was almost always gleefully happy. Whether he was explaining the internet to Bucky -- who Tony knew already knew how it worked and was clearly humouring Steve -- or showing off whatever random thing he'd found to his friend.

Tony'd thought Steve was doing alright before, but, damn. The difference having Bucky back made... it was like night and day. Steve just _transformed_. He was still the same moral upstanding guy, determined to do the right thing, but now he suddenly seemed to have found his north again.

He'd also stopped accepting their invitations to bed, which Tony was less happy about. He still willingly cuddled with the group a little on movie nights, but that was it. Hell, more often than not, he was curled around Bucky rather than any one of them.

On reflection, Tony wasn't sure whether the two of them used to be _together_ together, actually. There'd always been this undercurrent of tension between them on the old movie reels, now that he thought about it.

It was possible that they were trying to give it another go. And the thought stung a little. Okay, a lot.

But he would go along with it for Steve's sake.

Pepper and Natasha had both disagreed with that assessment, when he'd brought it up one night, but let it ride. They were convinced it would sort itself out. Tony was convinced it already had.

The following day, Rhodey called again: Tony and Steve were supposed to show up to give testimony about the mess at Lehigh, and the brass wanted it to happen yesterday. It made Tony grumble curses under his breath. This was the last thing they needed right now, but there was no avoiding it.

\------

[5] It's not required reading for the fic itself, but for those who want more information on this event and the things that led up to it, I offer a link to [the relevant Wikipedia article](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ngo_Dinh_Diem). Click here to return to text.


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